


After Many Miles

by IntoYourHurricane



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, In the Maze, Original Character(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoYourHurricane/pseuds/IntoYourHurricane
Summary: Mia doesn’t move for a few moments, feeling the warmth of Newt’s skin seep through his shirt against her cheek. “Hey,” she says finally, looking up at him again.“Hey love.” He smiles down at her.“How come,” she says after a breath, “how come you don’t ever call me Peaches like the rest of the boys?”“Because peaches are a thing. And you.” He presses his lips to her forehead. “You are not a thing. You are a person.”The classic "Girl In The Glade" trope (like five years after the movie came out, yeah... I know). I'm bad at summaries but here: there's gonna be (eventual) smut and this is unBeta-ed soooo hopefully it doesn't totally suck. Oh and also, in an effort to not be a total creep, let’s pretend everyone is 18. K?
Relationships: Newt (Maze Runner)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh lover, I’ll see you there.  
> Waiting in the willows with your autumn hair.  
> Oh lover, I’ll see you there  
> After many miles

A person might think that being trapped somewhere, anywhere, with no end in sight would be a bad thing. And she supposed it was, on the surface. But there were good things too -- an idea that was especially true on days like today when the sun was low in the perfectly cloudless sky, making its way over the edge of the wall to settle in for the night. If someone was going to get trapped somewhere for the rest of their lives, there were probably worse places than here. 

Laying on her back, feeling the grass against her skin and the sun on her face, she could almost pretend like she was somewhere else. 

Until a foot kicked her in the side. 

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, then?”

“Meditating,” she said without opening her eyes. 

“You don’t even know what ‘meditating’ means.”

“So? Do you know what it means?”

“I think it means ‘excuse for taking a nap on the Lawn when you should be doing your work.’”

The foot wound up again, but before it could hit it’s mark she grabbed the ankle it was attached to. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she opened them to stare up at the foot’s owner. 

“Cut me a goddamned break, Newt. I’m with the builders all day and Gally is getting on my nerves.”

Newt chuckles and eases down onto the grass beside her, crossing his arms behind his head. “I suppose this is better than having to take orders from that idiot all day.”

“I don’t know why we’re even bothering including the Builders in the rotation anymore. He clearly hates me. He’s hated me since I came up in the Box.” 

“He doesn’t make friends easily, it’s true. But you know the rules. You’ve gotta stay with a Keeper at all times, and he’s a Keeper.”

“Yeah well. He doesn’t have to be such an asshole about it. It’s been a whole year and it’s not my fault he got punched by a girl in front of everyone.”

Newt laughs fully this time. “It is most definitely your fault, love. You’re the one that punched him.”

“Heya Peaches. Newt.” Frypan plops down on the grass next to them. “You guys bitching about Gally again?”

“Is it that obvious?” She groans. “I need to be better about hiding my disdain, I guess.”

“There’s another one of those words again,” Newt sighs. “‘Disdain.’ Where do you even come up with these things?”

She shrugs. “Maybe I’m some sorta secret genius.”

“A secret genius with a death wish, maybe.” It was Frypan’s turn to laugh. “What, you get tired of jumping around like a monkey all day and decide it was time for a rest?”

“What are you talking about?” Newt sits up and looks at her. “Amelia, what’s he talking about?” 

Well, shit. He only used her full name when he was mad. 

“I was just climbing some trees. No big deal.”

“What, like the trees in the Deadheads? We’ve discussed this. More than once.”

“I didn’t fall. It was fine.”

“Yeah but you COULD have. I thought we’d been over this.”

“Your conversation cover jumping from tree to tree, too? Or just the climbing part.”

“Shut up, Fry.” She kicks him in the shin. 

“Jumping? Is that a joke?”

“Just the close ones,” she says sheepishly. “Look, it was fine. I didn’t fall. I didn’t get hurt. I just wanted to see if I could do it. And I could. I was hiding from Gally and…” she shrugs again.

“She’s been doing it for weeks,” Frypan offers in a sing-song voice. 

“Shut UP Fry!” She kicks him again, harder this time. 

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” Newt shakes his head. “Are there any rules you haven’t broken? Can’t you ever just do what…”

“Look,” she cuts him off as she sits up. “I promise. It’s fine. I know what I’m doing. I’m not made of glass.”

“Yeah, but that’s just the thing isn’t it? If you do get hurt, Clint and Jeff have to stop what they’re doing to take care of you because you did something unnecessary and reckless. Is that fair?”

“I’m not…”

“I know, you’re not afraid. But… other people are.”

“You know he’s right, Peaches. Alby’d lose his shit if he knew.”

“Quiet, traitor,” she hissed at Frypan. “I think I’d rather listen to Alby yell at me than a lecture from the professor over here.”

“Just…” Newt sighed. “Just promise me. No more jumping around. No more climbing. You stay on the ground. Got it?”

Before she could respond, they were interrupted by a commotion near the far end of the Lawn. 

“The hell is that?” She asked, glad to have an excuse to change the subject. 

“Scott, most likely.” Newt sighed again. 

“He still having trouble?”

“Yeah, looks like it. Keeps talking nonsense about the Maze. Saying he needs to get out.”

“Newsflash,” Fry says sarcastically. “We all need to get out.”

“I’m not sure what the solution is,” Newt continues, ignoring him. “He’s been starting fights, trying to cause problems. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.” He looks ather out of the corner of his eye. “That means you stay the hell away from him until Alby and I can figure out what to do. Got it?” 

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes again. “Yes, MOM. I’ll follow orders like a good little soldier. Even though I could totally take him.” 

“That so?” Newt laughs. “He’s a good half-foot taller than you.”

“So? You’re like a foot taller than me and I can still kick your ass.”

“Only because I let you win.”

“I wouldn’t bet against her,” Frypan says. 

Louder shouts erupt from the commotion on the lawn and a figure takes off running. 

“Shit, he’s going for the gate.” 

Newt starts to stand but before he can get to his feet, she’s off like a shot across the Lawn. He curses and takes off after her as she makes a beeline for Scott. She cuts off his path to the South Gate but, instead of stopping, she launches herself at the running boy and tackles him to the ground. 

“Shit,” Newt swears again.

By the time he reaches them, they’re a tangle of flying limbs with punches being thrown and insults being hurled. Scott is flailing, arms spinning wildly, trying desperately to land a hit and escape. 

“Get this shank off me!” Gally and another Builder reach them at the same time and start to pull Scott off of her. She winces as one of Scott’s fists finally connects with her face and Newt is by her side immediately. “Dammit,” she groans as blood begins to pour from a split in her bottom lip.

“Hey, let me see.” Newt reaches for her, but she brushes his hand away. 

“It’s just a scratch,” she says, standing and brushing off her clothes. Everyone is gathered around them now, gaping at her. “What? I said I was fine.” She spits red into the dirt. “Don’t you assholes have anything better to do?” When no one answers, she rolls her eyes and pushes her way out of the circle, stalking off towards the Deadheads. Newt opens his mouth to tell her to stay on the ground this time, but thinks better of it. 

“Oy. Get him in the Pit,” he says to Gally as he restrains a still-combative Scott. “We’ll figure out what to do once he calms down.” He searches the crowd and finds Alby standing in the background, far from the others, arms crossed and listening to something Minho is saying. He makes his way towards them, and Minho stops abruptly when he sees Newt within earshot. 

“Get the Keepers,” Alby says. “We need a Council meeting.”

“Look, Alby. The kid’s just upset. I don’t think he wanted to hurt anyone. He’s just having trouble adjusting. I think if we let him calm down and give him some time to cool off we can reason with him and then...”

“Not about Scott,” he cuts Newt off. “We need to talk about Peaches.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark when she woke up. 

She couldn't remember how she got here, but she knew it was probably not somewhere she wanted to be. 

Metal grating dug into the back of her legs. She felt air rushing all around her and the sound of machinery filled her ears.  
She was moving.  
Blindly, she groped around with her hands to feel a wall behind her and another one to her right. 

A box.  
She was in a box.  
A box that was moving progressively faster in an upwards motion. 

Well. This was different. 

How the hell did she get here? Where was here, even? Why couldn't she remember anything?

Why couldn't she remember her name?

Suddenly, the box slammed to a stop and remembering her name was irrelevant. The metal walls groaned exhaustedly, maybe even ominously, and everything was quiet. 

Then, the ceiling opened up. 

The light revealed by the opening doors (were they even doors?) above her was impossibly bright. She shielded her eyes with her hands and allowed her vision to adjust. Slowly, silhouettes above her began to take shape and she was able to make out human forms. 

“Shit.” Someone above her swore. A shadow passed above her and the floor shook as someone jumped down from above. “Okay girly, on your feet.” A hand reached to grab her arm and she pulled away. “Steady, steady.” The owner of the voice was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with angry eyes. He reached for her again. 

This time, she kicks him in the stomach. 

He doubled over in pain and went down hard, slamming into the wall behind him with a groan. From above, there were shouts of surprise and confusion, followed by the floor shaking as a second person jumped down to join them. She was on her feet this time, ready, her glare focused on the heap of the boy she’d just dispatched. 

“All right, easy now.” Her head turned sharply to the left to see a tall, lean boy with a mess of sandy blonde hair. His eyes weren't angry. They’re brown and sparkling with… something. Amusement, maybe? 

“Hey love,” he smiled at her crookedly and it’s like she’s felt the sun on her skin for the first time. “No one is going to hurt you. You don’t have to be afraid.” 

She wasn't afraid. 

“No one’s going to hurt you,” he repeated, “especially not after what you just pulled with Gally over there.” He gestured to the boy on the floor. 

“She suckerpunched me,” the other boy, who was apparently called Gally, groaned as he stood. “It was a cheap shot.” He made another move towards her and this time, she pressed herself against the wall, ready to attack again. 

“Whoa whoa whoa…” the taller boy said. “Gal, out.”

“What? Newt, we just…” 

“We’ll worry about the supplies later. Go find Alby and tell him to meet me at the Council Hall.” 

“Newt, this girl…”

“Messed your shit up real good, yeah. We all saw. Go before I let her at you a second time.” Gally hesitated for a moment and then disappeared, up and out of the Box. 

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Newt said again. The way he speaks, the way pronounced his words… did something to her. 

“I’m not afraid.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Right, well at least we know you can talk. And you’re standing, so that’s already miles ahead of where most of us start off. Do you think you can climb out of here?” He gestured above them to the opening that the boy named Gally had disappeared through. 

WIthout responding, she took a running leap, grabbing the edge of the Box to hoist herself up and out onto the grass. As she stood, she suddenly became aware of dozens of pairs of eyes on her. Panic rose in her chest momentarily, but then Newt appeared beside her and spoke in the same even, calming way he’d used a few moments ago. 

“All right you lot, make yourselves useful and start unloading.” No one moved. “What’s everyone staring at? Get moving!” He raised his voice only marginally, but for some reason this seemed to snap all the staring eyes out of their stupor and the bodies around her started move. 

“Sorry love,” he smiled that easy, crooked smile. “It’s been awhile since some of them’ve seen a girl and this place makes is easy to forget manners.”

She must’ve looked confused, because Newt looked at her and laughed again.

“No other girls about,” he said apologetically. “But I suspect you’d have managed to figure that much out on your own, eventually.”

She turned around slowly, taking in her surroundings. There was a large expanse of grass, several trees, and a smattering of crudely built structures. In the distance, she could make out animals strolling idly near a small fruit orchard. He was right -- the only other human beings she can see are boys. More than that, everything she saw is surrounded by impossibly high walls, half-rusted (were they metal?) and covered with ivy. 

“Where,” she whipped around to face him, “and I cannot stress this enough, the hell am I?”

There’s another smile, but this one is sadder. 

“Welcome to the Glade, love.”


	3. Chapter 3

They were seated inside a building (could it even be called a “building?” It was more of a hut, really) that Newt had called the Council Hall. The angry-faced Gally was there with eight other boys. He kept glaring at her without speaking as if he was ready for her to throw another punch. She couldn't blame him, but she didn't rule it out either. 

“Okay.” Another broad-shouldered boy stepped in front of the group and everyone falls silent. Newt had greeted him with a smile and a clap on the shoulder as he’d walked in and she knew that must be the boy he’d asked Gally to fetch earlier -- that was Alby. 

“Okay,” he said again. “This is... uh, today has not been our average Greenie Day.” He gestured at the only girl in the room. “This Greenie…”

“Amelia,” she interrupted. Newt raised his eyebrows and gives her a curious look from across the room where he leans against a post. 

“What?” Alby was staring now, too. 

“Stop calling me Greenie. My name is Amelia. Mia, actually. And stop talking to me like I don’t understand words. He explained everything to me.” She gestured towards Newt, whose eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline. “I’m not dumb and I’m not afraid.”

“Okay, Amelia.” Alby stood directly in front of her now, hands on his hips. “I’m sure you’ve guessed, but this ain’t the situation we were expecting when we opened up the Box today. We have rules here. Order and rules are the things that keep us afloat. And this sorta turns those rules on their nose. Understand? 

“Well, given the unusual nature of the circumstances, we have a few extra rules. Special rules, just for you.” He continued speaking, this time addressing the group. “Number one: she has her own shower time every night. No one else in or out of the Showers, a Keeper stands guard at the door to make sure none of these shanks try any funny business. Good that?” She heard murmurs of affirmation from the Keepers around her. “Second,” he paused for a moment. “Second, she’s with a Keeper at all times.”

This time, there was a clamor of confused voices in response to Alby’s mandate and he put his hand up to silence them. 

“Non-negotiable,” he said. “We ain’t takin’ any chances.”

“What about jobs?” Gally said, still glaring. “We got jobs to do and we can’t babysit all day.”

“She’ll help whoever needs it, whatever day it is. Long as there’s a Keeper there, don’t matter who. Last rule: Amelia… Mia... sleeps in the Homestead.” At this, the confused voices turn into shouts. 

“Uh uh. No way!” Gally, of course, is the loudest. “She’s a Greenie, Alby. She sleeps out on the lawn in the hammocks, just like the rest of those shanks. Besides, there ain’t room for her in there. All the rooms’ve been spoken for!”

“She’s sleeping in Newt’s room.” All eyes, including Mia’s, are flung immediately towards Newt who just stared at the ground, unspeaking. 

Her skin began to feel warm, just like it had when she’d first heard him speak in the Box. A funny feeling builds in her stomach, like the flame of a candle that’s just been lit. She wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but it occurred to Mia that nothing about what she’d experienced made sense on the surface, yet somehow felt like the most sensible thing she’d ever known. She tried to rationalize it, wrap her brain around it, but her head started to hurt again. 

“This sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Gally said. “So this is your life now?” He turned to Newt. “You’re okay with being demoted to a glorified guard dog?”

“Then what should we do, Gally?” A boy wearing an apron spoke for the first time. “Alby’s right. We can’t take any chances here. Someone needs to take responsibility for her. Can you think of anyone in this goddamned Glade you trust more than Newt?” 

“I’m with Alby,” a smaller boy with acne piped up. 

“Yeah, no shit Winston.” Gally rolled his eyes. “How do you think the rest of the Gladers are going to react when they find out that Newt has his own personal…”

“Finish that sentence,” Newt interrupted quietly, speaking for the first time since the debate had begun. “I dare you to finish that sentence.”

“I’m just saying.” Gally raised his palms in defense. “We shouldn’t be making exceptions. Ain’t fair.”

“You know damn well we made ‘exceptions’ in the past,” Alby huffed. “I said this ain’t negotiable and we ain’t takin’ any chances. She sleeps in the Homestead, in Newt’s Room and he looks after her. When he’s not around, she’s with another Keeper. Good that?”

“I don’t know why we’re even bothering with a vote,” Gally sulked. 

“Did I say we were voting?” Alby stared him down. “I believe I said this was ‘non-negotiable.’ That ain’t a vote.”


	4. Chapter 4

When Newt finds her, Mia is in the Deadheads, sitting with her back against a tree, poking the muddy ground with a stick. 

“Hey love,” he says as he strolls to a stop in front of her.

“Hey.” She pushes the stick further into muck, avoiding his gaze. 

“So you wanna talk about what the bloody hell that was back there?”

“Not sure what there is to talk about.”

He sighs. “How’s the lip?”

“Better than it looks.” 

As he crouches down and reaches for her face, but she pulls away. He sighs again and grasps her chin firmly to examine her lower lip. 

“Could need stitches,” he murmurs, gently running his thumb over the cut. 

“It’s fine.” They stay like that for a moment before she finally admits defeat and leans into his touch, closing her eyes at the warmth of his hand. “Is Scott going to get in trouble?”

“Not sure,” he tucks a brown curl behind her ear. “We threw him in the Pit for now. Gotta have a council meeting and figure out what we’re gonna do.”

“He wasn’t trying to hurt me. I was the one who ran after him.”

“Yeah, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? If you hadn’t stopped him, he probably would’ve made it out into the Maze. He’s gonna keep doing it until we do something about it. Not sure there’s anything to be done, though.” He eases down onto the ground and sits cross-legged facing her. “It’s a tough situation. Banishment is never anyone’s first choice, but who knows if he’ll listen to reason. We can’t risk losing more people, but we also can’t risk anyone else getting hurt.”

“He didn’t mean it. You know he didn’t.”

“You remember the day you came up in the Box?” he asks and Mia stares at him like he’s just told her he can breathe underwater. “Do you know the first thing I thought when I saw you?”

“That girl needs a bath?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, that was the second thing. The first thing I thought was that fearlessness and stupidity look a lot alike.” He ignores the elbow in the ribs he receives in response. “Anyone who would take on an unknown opponent twice their size, just like you did with Gally then or with Scott today, is not someone who thinks things through before they do them.”

“Okay, what was the third thing?”

“I’m serious, Mia. You never think about it — you just ‘do’ and someday it’s going to cost a hell of a lot more than a split lip. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re our pain in the ass and you can’t underestimate what your carelessness will do to those shanks if you misjudge the odds. It’s not just about you, okay?”

She’s silent for a long time, considering what he’d said. 

“What was the third thing you thought when you saw me?” she asks finally. 

“The third thing,” he laughs softly, “is that for some reason we needed each other.”

Mia leans forward and wraps her arms around Newt’s waist. She leans her head against his chest and listens to his heart beat. The only time she ever got to do anything like this was when they were alone and she certainly wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste, even in the middle of a smelly forest. He was so deliberate in his movements around her, always checking to make sure there were no prying eyes before he touched her. Even behind the closed door of their shared room, it seemed like he was making careful choices in the ways that he showed his affection for her. It bothered her for some reason, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. 

He was careful with her, treating her in a way that was different from the way he treated the other Gladers. True, everyone treated her different, as if she were some fragile thing that required safekeeping. But there were other things, too — longer stares when they thought she wasn’t looking, whispers when they thought she couldn’t hear, changes in conversation when she walked up. Those were things she’d come to expect. But with Newt it was as if he was trying to pretend something didn’t exist, even when they were alone together. 

She knew it had something to do with what the other Gladers said behind their backs, how they theorized amongst themselves when they thought she wasn’t listening. More than once, she’d heard Newt catch them gossiping and always had to stifle her laughter when he doled out extra work as punishment. Newt as an authoritative figure was such a rare occurrence she almost couldn’t take him seriously when it happened. 

“I’m sorry,” Mia says quietly. “I’ll do better.”

“I can’t protect you all the time, Mi. Much as I want to.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“You sure about that?” he laughs softly. “Because your attitude and my brain seem to have different ideas.”

“What do you think it means,” she says, pulling back to look at him, “that we ‘needed’ each other?”

“What do you think it means?” 

“I think it means you knew you couldn’t live without me,” she pushes his chest playfully. “You’d be lost without me.”

“That so?” He raises an eyebrow. “And where do you think you’d be without me?”

“I wouldn’t have to share a bed. And I definitely wouldn’t miss listening to your snoring.”

“Not bloody likely.” 

Suddenly, he’s pouncing on her and pushing Mia flat on her back. She moves to shove him off, but he’s faster and before she can fight back he’s grabbing her wrists and pinning arms above her head. And then, just like that he’s there, inches from her face, gazing at her with those stupid, lovely brown eyes of his like she’s the only person in the whole damn world. 

Heat starts to pool in her lower belly as she feels his body pressing into hers. As if he can sense her need, Newt shifts to move one of his legs between hers to apply the slightest amount of pressure. Her heartbeat quickens and she moves her hips to press up against his in search of more friction but he smirks and lifts his body away from hers, just out of reach. 

She groans. He knows exactly what he’s doing to her, the bastard. It’s not that this sort of thing happens all the time, but it’s happened before and it’s been happening more often in the last few months. When Mia first got to the Glade, they’d lay side by side, barely touching apart for the arm he always draped over her side as they slept. She’d wake up in the morning and he’d pull away from her immediately. Now, more recently, he’d lay in bed, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer and nuzzle her neck from behind. On these mornings, Mia can feel the hardness of his length pressed up against her backside and takes the opportunity to grind herself into him, enjoying the soft moan that always escapes his lips. Inevitably, though, he always snaps out of his reverie and rolls away from her, adjusting himself with a deep breath before he declares that it’s time to wake up. 

That’s how it always is, how it always has been — little moments where she can see cracks in his steely resolve, only to have him pull away at the last moment. She doesn’t fully understand it, but she knows she hates it. She knows it’s slowly driving her crazy. 

“Asshole,” she groans. 

“Mmhhmmm.” He smiles and nudges her nose with his, moving her head to the side so he can ghost his lips over her neck.

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.” 

Newt’s lips dance from her neck along the line of her jaw, coming to rest just above her own and Mia thinks she might burst into flames. This is how it is with the two of them — so close, but just out of reach. In moments like this, she’s almost sure that he feels the same way she does. In others, she doesn’t quite know what to think. 

“I do. You’re trying to kill me.”

That appears to snap him out of the moment. He rolls off of her with a huff and Mia swears internally. 

“We’ve gotta get moving.” He stands and offers her a hand. 

“Where the hell are we going?” She props herself up on her elbows and glares up at him.

“Council meeting.” He wiggles his fingers at her until she grabs them and he pulls her up to stand. 

“You mean you’re going to a Council meeting.”

“You’re going too.”

“Why the hell am I going to a Council meeting? I’m not a Keeper.”

Newt shrugs in answer, as if this is an adequate response to her question. 

“Well is anyone else going to be there? Or is it just me and the Keepers?” 

“Not a clue.” He makes his way towards the edge of the forest still holding Mia’s hand, pulling her along with him. “Only one way to find out.”

“Am I in trouble?” Her foot catches on a root and she stumbles. Newt’s hands grasp her shoulder, steadying her gently. 

“Do you think you’re in trouble?”

“Hell if I know. Alby hates me, so who can say what’s gonna happen. He’ll probably make me haul slop for a month just to prove a point.”

“Now that is categorically untrue.” Newt continues his path out of the Deadheads, slower this time. “Alby doesn’t remotely hate you. He lets you get away with more shit than anyone. More than me, even.”

“So then why do I have to be there?”

“I told you, love. I don’t have a bloody clue.” 

The orange brightness of the setting sun stings momentarily as they break through the trees and on to the Lawn. Newt immediately drops her hand the second they’re in view of anyone else and Mia rolls her eyes at the action.  
“Just… sit and listen to whatever Alby has to say. Try not to talk back and don’t argue. Can you do that?”

“Doubtful.”

He laughs. “Just.. try. Please try. For me.”

“Okay okay. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Probably.”

Side by side, with hands brushing but not quite touching, they make their way across the Lawn towards the Council Hall.


	5. Chapter 5

If you were to ask where the nickname “Peaches” came from, none of the Gladers would be able to tell you for certain. 

If you asked Alby, he’d probably tell you that it started after Mia’s first month in the Glade. Everyone morning, he’d see her eating breakfast with Newt and ask her how she was getting along and she would roll her eyes and say, “Oh, you know. Just Peachy.” He’d never admit it, especially not to her, but it made him chuckle every time.

Frypan would say that it happened the second month after she came up out of the Box, when there was a bout of stomach flu going around the Glade and Mia got the worst of it. For five days, she couldn’t keep anything down — Clint and Jeff tried everything they knew to do, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, on the sixth day, Newt knelt by her bedside and begged her to try and eat something. 

“My Amelia ain’t no quitter,” he’d said. 

Without any other options that sounded palatable to the patient, Fry boiled down peaches in some sugar and water until it resembled baby food (or, rather, what any of them could remember as baby food). When she finally took her first bite, followed by a second, the Glade breathed a collective sigh of relief. After a full week of nothing but peaches, she was willing to try her luck with other things but, even so, Frypan always made sure he had a batch on the stove. Just in case. 

Zart might say it came from the time when she fell out of one of the peach trees in the Orchard and lost consciousness for a good five minutes. Newt had been by her side faster than anyone, checking her breathing and yelling for the Medjacks. She’d woken up to his worried face over her own and burst out laughing. 

“Good thing it wasn’t one of the high branches,” she’d giggled. “I woulda been a pancake for sure.”

The next day, Newt made them cut down all of the branches that couldn’t be reached by ladder, and even some that were considerably lower than that. 

If you asked Minho why they called her “Peaches,” he would tell you the story about the day he trudged into the Map Room after his daily run of the Maze and found Mia sitting cross-legged on the floor, studying yesterday’s drawing of Section 6. She had a whole peach in one hand and half-eaten one in the other, the juice making soft plopping sounds as it dripped onto the paper. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” He’d demanded. 

“This map is wrong,” she’d said without looking at him. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here, and you’re sure as shit not supposed to be alone. Who are you with today? Builders? Does Gally know you’re here?”

“Probably not,” she shrugged and took another bite of her snack. “There’s a lot of shit that asshole doesn’t know. Who cares? Did you hear what I said? This map is wrong.”

“You’re making a mess.” Minho marched over to her, grabbed the unfinished fruit from her hand and tossed it outside. “And that map isn’t wrong. I drew it myself.”

“Well you drew it wrong.” She rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her back-up peach. “That map at the bottom of the pile over there,” she gestured to a grouping of papers stacked haphazardly amongst dozens of others. “That’s the right one. I’ll prove it.” She jumped up and ran over to the stack of maps. After retrieving the paper in question, she slams it on the floor next to the original.

“See?” She pointed to an area in the middle of the drawing. “That’s a right turn but it’s supposed to be a left. Look.” Sure enough, the map she’d been studying showed a right turn, whereas the other had a left. “The other Section Six maps are right. It’s just this one that’s messed up.” 

“How…” Minho looks at her confusedly. “How do you know this? How could you have possibly had time to compare all of these maps to see what the differences were?”

“I didn’t compare them. I just looked at them.”

“You just LOOKED at them?”

“Yeah. I looked at each one and I knew where the mistake was.” Mia takes another bite and stares at him like he’s gone insane. “It’s something I can do. I look at things once and I remember what they look like forever. Or maybe just for a long time.” She shrugged. “I guess I can’t remember anything before a few months ago so I’m not sure how long stuff like that sticks around. But I’m guessing it’s a while.”

“They’ve got a name for that, you know.”

“I know. But… just, don’t tell anyone. Okay? These shanks think I’m weird enough as it is. I don’t need to add fuel to the fire.” With that, she turned on her heel and bounced out of the room, leaving Minho to stare after her incredulously. 

“Son of a bitch,” he’d laughed. 

Gally would say, without a doubt, that the nickname came from the day that he and Newt found Mia sitting on the Lawn in the sun when she most definitely should’ve been working. 

“C’mon. Off your ass,” he’d snapped angrily. “We don’t get to sit around all day and neither do you.”

“I’m not sitting around ALL day. Just right now.”

“Mia…” Newt warned. 

“I’m taking a break!” She held out a peach to him, but he shook his head. “Your loss, they’re really good today.” She took a bite, pointedly maintaining eye contact with him. “Super ripe.”

“Jesus.” Gally rolled his eyes. “You’re something else. Get up and get to work so I don’t have to worry about babysitting you.” 

“Don’t rush me asshole. I’m enjoying my peach.” 

“I’ll bet she tastes like peaches too.” A Greenie named Rich snickered as he walked past with a group of Slicers. 

Newt’s head whipped around to chastise the culprit but before he could open his mouth, a projectile flew past him and smacked Rich square in the forehead. 

“What?” Mia shrugged nonchalantly when he turned back to her amusedly. “They weren’t as good as I thought, I guess. 

If you asked Winston how Mia got her nickname… well, he’d probably agree with whatever Alby said, as was his nature. 

If you asked Newt, he’d shake his head and smile. Maybe he’d be smiling at the memories, but mostly he’d probably be smiling at Mia.


	6. Chapter 6

“All right,” Alby says, standing in the middle of the Council Hall to address the Keepers. “Our Keeper of the Runners here,” he gestures at Minho, “has what he describes as ‘a brilliant plan.’”

“Why is she here?” Gally uses mods towards Mia from his seat across the room and she rolls her eyes. 

“Because I was invited, dumbass.” She crosses her arms and slumps down in her chair next to Newt. To be fair, she wasn’t entirely sure why she was there either. 

“Because the idea is about her,” Newt says calmly, giving her a small pat on the leg. 

Wait, what? Mia sits up in her chair, suddenly more interested in the conversation. She looks to Minho for an explanation.

“I think,” Minho says carefully, considering his words, “that Peaches should be a Runner.”

The room erupts in a burst of responses from the Keepers, but for once Mia is at a loss for words. Was he being serious?

“All right, all right.” Alby puts his hands up to quiet the room. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“She’s faster than any of us,” Minho says. “We all saw that stunt she pulled on the Lawn today. Maybe she’s not so great at following orders but she’s not scared of anything, and that’s more than I can say for some of you shanks. Plus, she’s got a photographic memory.” He waits a moment for this last part to sink in. “Look, we all know we’ve hit a standstill. The Runners have mapped as much of the Maze as we can but there’s gotta be something we’re missing, something that will get us out of here. And it could come down to something really small that no one would notice, unless they had a brain like Peaches over there. This might be our best shot of getting out.” He sits down in his chair when he finishes, and no one else says anything for a long time. 

“I don’t like it,” Gally says finally. “It’s too much of a risk. She’s too unpredictable, not to mention she could get clobbered out there by herself where we can’t watch her all the time. I say just leave it -- we’re getting along fine the way things are.” Mia scowls at him indignantly. He doesn’t know what the hell he was talking about. 

“I’m with Gally,” Alby says. Of course he would agree with Gally, that shank. What was his problem? “It’s too dangerous. It’s not worth the risk.”

“Alby,” Clint argues, “this ain’t Michelle we’re talking about here. This is Mia.” 

Who the hell is Michelle?  
Mia looks at Newt for answers but he just shakes his head and says nothing, his mouth set in a firm line. 

“Yeah, I know she ain’t Michelle, asshole,” Alby snaps angrily. “What I’m saying is, is this really necessary? Gally’s right. It’s a liability and we can’t watch her all the time. What are we supposed to do? Spend every second from sunup to sundown worrying that she might not make it back here? It’s bad enough with the Runners on a normal day, bad enough with someone having to watch her every second in the Glade. It’s bad enough that he,” he gestures at Newt accusingly, “can’t focus on anything else worth a damn.”

“I’d like to remind you,” Newt interrupts quietly, the tips of his ears reddening, “that that was your call, Alby.”

Alby ignores him. “It was bad enough when we lost Michelle. Do any of you shanks want to go through that again? I sure as hell don’t.”

Mia can feel the anger start to rise, her face heating with frustration. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

“This ain’t about you, sweetheart.” Gally crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “This is about what’s best for the Gladers.”

“It sure as shit is about me,” she bites back. “I’m the one going out there.” 

“I say we do it,” Winston says. “It could be our best shot.” Zart, Fry, and Clint nod in agreement. 

“I don’t think…” Gally starts again. 

“Yeah, we know asshole.” Mia rolls her eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.

“My opinion is…” he glares at her.

“You’re opinion,” she interrupts, “is shit.”

“Newt, I swear to god,” Gally shakes his head angrily. “Get your girl to shut her mouth or…”

“Or you’ll what?” Mia laughs sarcastically. “You wouldn’t last ten seconds…”

“Let’s test that theory out.” Gally responds, standing up and kicking his chair towards the wall. 

Mia snarls and makes a move towards him but before she is even fully out of her chair, Newt loops an arm around her waist from behind to stop her advance and lifts her off the ground, legs and arms flailing furiously. 

“All right killer, let’s take a walk.” He carries her towards the door, setting her down on the grass outside. 

“Those sons of bitches!” She screams. “I’ll kill every last one of them…” She paces back and forth in front of him, anger coming off of her in waves.

“Are you about done?” Newt leans his tall, sinewy frame against the outside of the Council Hall and pretends to look at his watch. 

“You think this is funny,” she says, stopping to scowl at him. “They’re in there, talking about me like I don’t exist.”

“Any why does that bother you?” He quirks up the side of his mouth like he already knows the answer. 

“They,” she points emphatically at the Council hall, “don’t get to tell me how I feel.”

“Oh, I think they know that,” Newt laughs. 

“I just…” she huffs, frustrated. “I need to go out there, I need them to…” she trails off. “I can help.”

“They know you can help,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Then why the hell is Gally acting like a shank asshole about all of this? Why is he trying to ruin it?!”

“Gally’s not trying to ruin anything, he just doesn’t want things to change,” he sighs. “Listen, just… stop.” 

“Stop what?!”

“Stop trying to be so brave, love.” Newt reaches for her and pulls her in close, wrapping his arms around her. “You don’t need to tell them how you feel. They already know.”

“What about you?” She says, burying her face in his chest, enjoying the feeling of his long arms surrounding her, out here in the open where others can see. “You can’t tell them how you feel if you’re out here with me.”

“They know how I feel,” he murmurs into her hair. 

“You don’t want me to go,” she says, lifting her head to look at him. 

“Of course I don’t,” he says with a sad smile. “But, it ain’t up to me. Majority rules, love. And I have it on good authority that this majority is going to rule in your favor.”

“I hate you.” She looks away from him, biting back a grin. 

“Only when I’m right,” he says into her hair. 

“Good thing that doesn’t happen very often. Ow!” Mia swats his hand away as he pinches the skin on the back of her arm playfully. 

“All right Peaches.” Clint sticks his head through the doorway and raises his eyebrows when he sees Newt leaning against the side of the building, Mia in his arms. “It’s time. I’m supposed to tell you to ‘avoid the theatrics’ but, uh, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you ignored that part.” He drums on the doorframe with his fingertips to emphasize his point, and disappears inside. 

Mia doesn’t move for a few moments, feeling the warmth of Newt’s skin seep through his shirt against her cheek. “Hey,” she says finally, looking up at him again. 

“Hey love.” He smiles down at her. 

“How come,” she says after a breath, “how come you don’t ever call me Peaches like the rest of the boys?” 

“Because peaches are a thing. And you.” He presses his lips to her forehead. “You are not a thing. You are a person.”

“Okay,” Alby says once they’re seated inside. “This is how it’s gonna go. You,” he looks at Mia pointedly, “are going to sit here and listen to what we have to say and everyone is going to keep their opinions,” he glances over at Gally, “to themselves until we’re finished. Good that?”

Mia nods, trying to contain her enthusiasm. 

“All right.” He begins. “If we do this, all the regular rules still apply, plus some extra conditions. First off, she runs with another Runner. She never goes into the Maze alone. Second, she’s first out. Every day. That means she’s through that gate ten whole minutes before everyone else. Every day, no matter what. And, whatever Minho says, goes. He’s the Keeper, he’s in charge. So,” he turns to face Mia and marks the items off with his fingers. “Number one: you run with a partner. Number two: first out. Every day. No matter what. Number three: you’re not in charge. Good that?” He looks around the room as the other Keepers murmur in agreement. Only Gally is silent, his arms crossed defiantly. 

“Seven to three, majority rules,” Alby says, “Starting tomorrow Peaches, you’re a Runner.”


	7. Chapter 7

The bonfire on Mia’s first night was, by all accounts, a somewhat somber affair compared to the other Greenie Nights. Lots of strange looks shot in her direction, hushed conversations in small groups, and a fair amount of outright hostility. The last part was mainly Gally, but the rest of the Builders seemed to follow his lead. More than that, barely anyone had spoken to her, apart from the boy in the apron (“Frypan,” they’d called him, which made her laugh). And, of course, Newt.

“Is it always going to be like this?” She looked around at the other Gladers, spread over the Lawn in groups of three or four. Every once in a while she would catch someone looking at her, but she wasn’t totally sure if it was out of fascination or disgust or both.

“Can’t say,” Newt said. He was seated on a log next to her near the fire, swirling the liquid contents of the jar in his hand distractedly. “I doubt it very much, though. They’ll figure it out. Being here is all about adapting, not that we have much of a choice.”

“None of them seem to be adapting all that well.” She held out her hand and Newt passed her the jar, eyeing her curiously.

“We have rules because it makes it easier to anticipate challenges,” he explained. “You are a challenge we did not anticipate, and it’s throwing everyone off. Give them time, love. It’s only the first day.”

Mia took a sip of the moonshine she’d been holding, considering what he’d just said.

“This,” she declared after a moment, “is disgusting.”

“Good,” he laughed, reaching for the jar. “It’ll keep you from drinking too much of it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Mia pulled her hand away defiantly and took a long pull from the jar, taking care not to cough or sputter. When she hands it back to Newt, he’s staring at her intently.

“Noted, then.” He grabbed the jar from her and set it down on the other side of his legs, out of her reach.

“So why do you think that Alby is making you babysit me all the time?” Mia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Newt stared at the fire for a long time, unspeaking.

“I think,” he said as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, “I think that these guys trust me, for whatever reason. And Alby’s thought was that if they trust me, they’d trust you too.”

“Yeah, but why the song and dance of having someone with me all the time? Having me sleep somewhere different?”

“Every loss here is palpable.” He raised the jar to his lips but hesitated. “And there’s a hell of a lot of loss. We feel it all and we feel it deeply.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes before finally taking a drink. “But, then the Box comes up out of that hole in the ground and a new Greenie is there, scared and confused and eventually the last loss starts to get easier to think about. Not better, just easier. It’s always the same: a guy who can’t remember his name, cowering in a corner, frightened half to death. And eventually the guy gets used to it and we all get used to it and things continue on as they always have. It’s always the same.

“Except,” he inclined his head towards Mia, “when it’s not. The loss of something different, especially in a place like this, is a lot harder to overcome.”

The only response Mia had was to reach for the moonshine. As she drained the rest of the jar, Alby called for lights out.

“There’s one more rule,” Newt said, sitting down on the floor of his (now their) Room and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “It’s an important one too.”

“I thought they were all important.”

“Yeah, well. This one is the most important.” He looked at her and wondered if a person could be confused, concerned, and fascinated by someone all at once.

“Okay, fine.” She plopped down on the bed and put on her best attempt at a serious expression. “Lay it on me.”

“No one touches you unless you say so.” His eyes were fixed on her, unmoving.

“No one touches me unless I say so,” she repeated. Her forehead creased in confusion as she considered this.

“They’re all good lads, for the most part.” Newt bent his legs and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees again. “But we can’t rely on that, not all the time anyway. Being in this place… it gets inside some guy’s heads, turns their thinking sideways. That’s why rules are important here: we set one up, there’s no grey area. Someone breaks a rule, they get punished.”

Something about this makes her stomach turn. The thought of someone touching her without her permission repulsed her, but she didn’t entirely understand the reasoning. Then another thought crept into the back of her consciousness.

“What if… what if I want someone to touch me.”

Newt stared at her, unblinking.

“Well then,” he swallowed as he responded, “I guess you’ll just have to tell them. See if they, uh, feel the same.”

Mia nodded, pretending to comprehend his meaning, even though she was sure she’d missed something. Was he saying that he felt this strangeness between them? This odd, pulling sensation that she’d felt since she’d laid eyes on him in the Box.

“Right, well,” he interrupted her thought process. “It’s been one hell of a day and tomorrow’ll be another shock to the system, I’m sure.”

“I’m not afraid,” Mia said, stifling a yawn. “I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can, love.” His smile is lopsided and completely genuine. There was that word again, too. “Love.” Something fluttered in Mia’s chest every time she heard him call her that.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he said, watching as she makes herself comfortable on his bed. “Not entirely, anyway.”

“You’re going to sleep on the floor?” She asked when he doesn’t move from his spot against the wall.

“Not sure where else I would do.”

“What about the bed?”

“Love, I…” Every time he called her that, Mia felt lightheaded.

“You said tomorrow was going to be… challenging. Whatever.” She cut him off, willing the dizzy feeling to dissipate. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to sleep on a bed, then?” He stared at her mutely. “I’m just saying. This is where I sleep now, right? So what are you going to do? Sleep on the floor forever? Or until we’re ‘rescued’ or some bullshit like that? What did Alby say about how we’re supposed to handle sleeping?”

“He didn’t, I guess.” Newt ran his hand through his hair, looking anywhere in the room besides Mia.

“Okay. So, just... I don’t know. I’m okay with it if you are.”

He didn’t move right away, still undecided. She couldn’t tell whether it was her, the bed, or the whole situation, but eventually he sighed and reluctantly crossed the room. Toeing off his boots, he slid into bed and lay on his side between Mia and the wall. His arm hovered between his body and hers, unsure of what to do with it.

“Oh, for god sakes.” Mia rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, draping it around her waist. “There. Better?” She shifted her body back against his and he froze, going rigid at the contact. “It’s okay,” she said, trying not to act amused. “You can touch me. I say so.”

Eventually, he released the tension he’s been holding in his body since that morning, since he saw her come out of the Box. He exhaled one long, calming breath on the back of Mia’s neck and allowed himself to lean into her. The whole process felt comforting, routine even. As if they’d done this a thousand nights before.

“Goodnight love,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Y'all. You don't know what it means to see that people are reading (and ENJOYING) something that you've been working on for so long. I was so nervous to post it, as I'm sure most people are, especially when it's their first fic. Your feedback means everything to me and warms my cold, dead heart.


	8. Chapter 8

Mia’s first day as a Runner was the worst day Newt could remember since the day he came up in the Box. If he hadn’t been able to focus before, he wasn’t entirely sure what the new version of purgatory was but he knew he didn’t like it. He skin itched, his hands shook so badly that he couldn’t pick peaches. He couldn’t hold a trowel to dig for potatoes, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her. 

Was she okay? She had to be okay. He went through the rules again in his head. She was with another Runner, she would be first out, and she would listen to Minho. He wasn’t totally convinced that this last part would work, actually. But the first two things would have to be enough, he supposed. 

Bloody hell. He felt protective of all of the Gladers, certainly, but this girl, this reckless, impulsive, fearless girl was something different all together. There was something about her that made him feel like… like a space in his chest had suddenly been filled, but he wasn’t even aware that it had been empty in the first place. 

Lunch was torture. The thought of food seemed so irrelevant to him and the few bites he managed to choke down tasted like dirt. 

“It’ll be fine,” Alby says to him in a low voice. “She’s running with Minho today. No one knows that Maze better than him. You gotta focus up. There’s work to be done.”

The rest of the day drags and Newt has to stop himself from glancing at the South Gate every five seconds. If he can just make it through today, he tells himself, he’ll be okay. All he has to do is make it through the first day and see her face, and he’ll be able to stomach every other day from now on. 

Finally, finally the sun begins to set and a group of Gladers gathers idly around the open Gate, waiting to see how the only girl out of 50 boys had fared during her first day in the Maze. Even Gally is there, standing in the back of the crowd with arms crossed as usual. Newt forces himself to focus on turning dirt over in the potato patch, but gives up immediately when he hears a small chorus of cheers ring out behind him. He glances at his watch. Ten minutes early. 

Striding earnestly towards the Gate, he crosses the Lawn and pushes through the line of boys whooping animatedly. She is there, just outside the gate, bent over with her hands on her knees and breathing heavily. Minho has his hand on her back is saying something that he doesn’t hear, but she swats his hand away, irritated, and Newt knows it was probably something rude. 

“Hey!” She stands up, arching her back to stretch and smiling when she sees him coming towards her. “I am so wiped. You’ll never believe what...oh!” She gasps in surprise as he lifts her from the ground and into a crushing embrace. Someone, probably Frypan, wolf whistles but neither of them seem to care. Newt breathes in the smell of her sweat, the scent of her hair, the feeling of her body against his. She was okay. Better than okay even. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could stay focused and not ruin everything. 

“What was that for?” He sets her down and she smiles up at him, puzzled. She begins to blush uncharacteristically as she remembers that they have an audience. 

Newt doesn’t say anything. He stares down at her, at the mixture of confusion and happiness and maybe even longing in her eyes. And, in that moment, knows that he is for sure, without a doubt, one hundred percent in over his head.

“Oh, bloody hell.” He says. 

Without giving her a chance to respond and without hesitation, his lips crash against hers and he can’t recall a time when he cared about anything else.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW here: mentions of suicide.

“Who’s Michelle?” Mia finally asks Newt one evening as they’re sitting in their usual spot, watching the rest of the Gladers mill about the Lawn. The weather it’s usual, mild self, and there’s a light breeze blowing.

“You heard that, eh?” Newt sighs, leaning back against the log. He’s seemed better the last few weeks. Calmer, even. Like he is finally used to the idea that Mia was going into the Maze every day and returning relatively unscathed. He’s been more open with her, too — less guarded, especially since his unexpected display of affection after her first run. Alone in their Room and away from the prying eyes of others, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her when they settle in for the night. When they’re outside, amongst the others, he still finds little ways to touch her by brushing his arm against hers or leaning into her. Even so, he’s holding back. She can feel it, this invisible barrier between them that seems as thin as paper but won’t quite break. “I was wondering when you’d get around to asking. No point in skirting around it, I suppose.

“Michelle,” he begins quietly, “was the first girl in the Glade.”

“There were others?” Mia looks around, trying to picture another girl in the sea of boys surrounding her. For some reason, that feels unnatural.

“Not ‘others.’ Just one.” Newt holds up a single finger to emphasize his point. “Michelle was the only one, until you came along and turned us all upside down.” He leans into her shoulder, nudging it playfully when she scoffs at him. “She came up a few months after Alby did, about a month before I got here. She was the first thing I saw when I came out of the Box. I thought I was dead, and she was some kind of…” his voice trails off as he stares into the distance, remembering. “... some kind of angelic creature that had come to guide me into whatever happens after this life.”

Mia’s skin begins to crawl with jealousy, though she’s not entirely sure why. “Do I remind you of her?”

“Not a bloody chance,” Newt laughs. “I’ve never met two people more different. But that’s not a bad thing,” he adds quickly when he sees the look of disappointment on her face. “She was… I guess ‘guarded’ is the best way to explain it. Quiet. Thought before she said things. Definitely wouldnt’ve thought to lay any of these shanks out for mouthing off to her.” He grins proudly, watching Mia out of the corner of his eye. “She and Alby were inseparable. Took to each other immediately, so the story goes. He said it was like magnets – he felt like he was being ‘pulled’ towards her. They balanced each other. When George died, she calmed Alby down. Made him see things rationally. She had a way of doing that, not just for Alby but for everyone. If you think Minho’s a hothead now, you should’ve seen him when he first came up. She’s the one who convinced Alby to make him a runner. Thought it would help him burn some of the anger off.”

“She was a runner too?”

“Absolutely not. You couldn’t convince that girl to go anywhere near the bloody Maze, not for anything in the world. She was scared to death of it. Michelle was cautious — didn’t take any chances when it came to shit like that. She stayed as far away from danger as possible.” He turns his head to face Mia, looking at her pointedly. “She knew there was a fine line between being brave and being stupid. Might do some other people good to remember that, too.

“She was a Med-Jack,” he continues. “Taught Clint everything he knows, though I think she might’ve had her work cut out for her with that one. She loved animals – spent all her free time over in the pens looking after them, taking care of the babies. Couldn’t stand to see ‘em die, though. So, she helped patch guys up. Think it might’ve been her way of making up for the killing we did in order to eat.”

“What did she look like?”

Newt laughs and Mia glares at him. “She was tall. Not as tall as me, but almost as tall as Alby. And thin, straight as a pole. Her hair,” he says, reaching out to tug one of Mia’s curls, “was the color of strawberries and it was smooth like glass. Her eyes were the color of storm clouds. She just… she made everything feel like it moved easier. Like we could feel bloody normal here, almost. She was steady and predictable, the thing we could set our watches by. She was like the sun.” He considers this for a second. “Yeah. If she was the sun, then you’re the fire.”

“I thought maybe that’s why Alby didn’t want me to be a Runner,” Mia says, worrying the inside of her lip between her teeth. “He hates me because I remind him of Michelle.”

“He doesn’t hate you, love.” Newt puts his arm around her, drawing her nearer. “Not by a long shot. He’s worried. Worried about what’ll happen if it happens again. He couldn’t protect her. It ain’t his fault, but he thinks it was. Always with the weight of the whole bloody world on his shoulders, that boy. Thinks he’s responsible for everything.” 

“What happened?”

Newt doesn’t say anything for a long time. “About six months before you came up, something changed. She stopped smiling, stopped laughing. It was like… all the light was gone from her. She barely spoke, even to Alby. He tried everything – spent all his time trying to fix it. Had Fry make her special food that she wouldn’t eat. For a whole bloody month, every ounce of energy he had went into figuring out what was wrong with her so he could make it better. Seemed like it was working, too — she started to perk up some a day or two before it happened. Then, one morning Alby woke up and she was gone. Wasn’t in their Room or in the Homestead, or with the animals. We searched everywhere — a couple of guys thought maybe she wandered into the Maze, but Alby knew better. We found her…” he closes his eyes at the memory. “We found her in the Deadheads, swinging from a tree branch. She’d tied a bloody rope around her neck, climbed up a tree and...” 

Mia sits silently in disbelief. 

“We thought maybe she’d been caught too close to a Griever, you know?” Newt continues, resting his chin on top of Mia’s head. “The sting’ll make a person go mad, eventually. But Clint checked her out after… after we cut her down and swore on his life that she wasn’t stung. It was like… it was like she just gave up. And Alby,” he sighs sadly, “Alby just lost his shit. Went completely insane. Started ripping bloody boards off the wall of the Med Tent, trying to punch anything and anyone that got too close. Wouldn’t let anyone go near her, not even to bury the body. We finally took him down and Clint was able to shoot him up with something to make him sleep. 

“When he woke up, he didn’t get out of bed for days. He’d just lay there and stare at the ceiling. It was a mess. No one knew what to do. We took turns sitting in his room with him to make sure he didn’t…” Newt’s voice trails off. “Finally, I got him to start eating again and eventually he got up and started walking around. Things slowly started to get back to normal, but then you,” he says, bumping her knee fondly, “you happened. The second we figured out that the new Greenie was a girl, I saw the look in his eyes. He thought it was starting all over again.

“He doesn’t hate you, love. He just can’t bear the thought not being able to save you.”

They sit in companionable silence for a moment, listening to the breeze softly make its way through the trees behind them. What would she have done if she had been through what Alby had been through? Mia snuggles her body closer to Newt, refusing to allow the image of his body swinging with a rope around his neck invade her thoughts. Instead, she takes his hand and threads her fingers through his. 

“I'v never been able to figure it out,” he sighs, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “She was fine one day, and then she wasn’t. It was like someone had flipped a bloody light switch.” 

“Do you think something happened? Something that made her want to… you know.”

“I’m not sure what it would be,” he answers. “We were all going through the same things, experiencing the days the same. Could be that it’s just different for girls in the Glade. Who knows.”

“Well I’d say that’s an understatement,” she says, tickling him playfully in the ribs. “I don’t have any memories of what the Outside World was like, but I have to imagine the ratio is a bit better than one girl for every 50 boys.” 

“You know what I mean,” he laughs. “Maybe girls just… see things we can’t. Maybe we’re all sitting here like a bunch of assholes, waiting for a day that will never bloody come and you girls know better.” 

“So you’re saying we’re smarter?”

“Well, not all of you, certainly. Ow!” He laughs as Mia kicks his shin in retaliation for the insult. “It’s also… just… it’s the thing you said about the ratios, about boys outnumbering you 50 to one. There’s some danger in that, too. Not everyone thinks the same — it’s like, the more peaches you pick, the more rotten ones you’re bound to come across.”

“No one touches me unless I say so,” Mia says quietly, understanding. 

“Exactly,” Newt says, giving her shoulders a squeeze. 

“And that’s why Alby wants you with me all the time.” 

“That’s why Alby wants me with you all the time. I…” he laughs softly to himself and begins stroking her hair. “I’ve got other reasons, I guess.”

“I think I like your reasons better,” Mia says, yawning. 

Newt’s other hand moves to trace her jawline and he places a finger under her chin to tilt her face towards his own, searching for an answer to a question she’s not entirely sure of. There’s something behind his eyes that she’s seen before, but this time his meaning is clearer. He traces her lower lip with his thumb, gently stroking the split that’s halfway healed, and her heart threatens to beat out of her chest. She suddenly feels light-headed, like she’s being spun around very quickly. She places her hand on his chest, aware of the heat of his skin and the rapid movement of his breathing. Without thinking, she takes his thumb between her teeth and bites down softly. Newt sucks in a breath of surprise, watching her intently as she swirls her tongue around the pad of this finger. 

“Does it feel good?” She whispers

“Love, I…” his eyes fall shut. 

They are both pulled abruptly from their reverie by the sounds of shouts of merriment as someone laughs at someone else’s joke. Mia looks from Newt to the other Gladers running and goofing off across the lawn, the setting sun illuminating their silhouettes from behind.

“I think...” she says glancing up at him shyly. “I think we should…”

“Good that.” Newt doesn’t let her finish her sentence. He stands, pulling Mia up with him and together they make their way across the Lawn, slipping away unnoticed by their friends in the fading light. They walk the whole distance in silence, fingers brushing with every few steps. 

Once they reach the Homestead, Mia opens the door to their Room and motions for Newt to enter first, giving him a little bow. 

“You shouldn’t have,” he laughs. Mia closes the door behind her and turns to face him, holding her breath.

“Hey,” she exhales after a few seconds.

“Hey love.” He smiles that crooked smile of his and something inside her melts. She closes the distance between them, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. “God, you’re short,” he laughs, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. 

“I think you’re just unusually tall,” she says in a low murmur. 

Her hands make their way up the back of his neck and she pushes her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes, groaning at the feeling of her nails on his scalp. His hands ghost down her sides and come to rest on her hips, giving them a small squeeze. 

“Does it feel good?” she asks for the second time that evening. 

“Mmm…” Newt says, eyes still closed. “I can barely imagine anything better.” 

“Is that so?” This time she pulls his hair gently and he groans again, angling his face downward and pressing his lips gently to hers. He brings his hand to her cheek and draws her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist to press her body against his. A whimper forms in the back of Mia’s throat and she pulls on his hair, harder this time, to deepen the kiss. 

Tentatively, Newt’s tongue pushes against her lips with gentle strokes and she welcomes him into her mouth with a sigh. After a moment she’s pulling at his clothes and her hands slip under the back of his shirt, her fingernails scraping his skin softly. Newt moans and she can feel his hardness pressing against her and her skin feels hot, like she was suddenly wearing too many clothes. Breaking their kiss, she reaches for the hem of her shirt and begins to pull it off. 

“Love,” Newt says quietly as he places his hands on her arms, preventing her from completing the task. 

“What?” Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Don’t you… don’t you want…”

“Shit,” he sighs. “‘Course I bloody do.”

“I can feel it you know,” she says, releasing her shirt to toy with his belt and then hooking her fingers through the loops that hold it in place. “In the morning, when I wake up before you and you’re pressed up against me. I can feel it right now,” she whispers. 

She moves to undo the buckle, and he places his hands on hers gently to stop her. 

“I don’t understand,” she says, stepping away from him. 

“Hey…” he reaches for her but she steps back further. 

“Do you not… do you not want this? Because sometimes I think you do and sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy. And if you don’t want to? That’s fine. But there are a lot of…” she looks pointedly at his waist, “things that are giving me a different impression. Like I said, I don’t remember much about the Outside World but I remember enough to know how things like this work.” 

“Love, I…” Newt runs his hand through his hair. “I can’t. We can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“More dangerous than running around in a stupid Maze infested by poisonous machines that want to kill me?” she laughs bitterly. 

“It could be!” He snaps back. “It could be incredibly bloody dangerous if you lose focus out there. You can’t get distracted, not even for a second. And this,” he gestures between the two of them, “this is a bloody distraction. What Alby and Michelle had… it made him lose focus. Made him weak.”

“You think I’m weak?” she spits. She’s yelling now, her words tasting like acid in her mouth. “I am NOT weak! YOU are weak!”

“You’re right!” Newt screams. “I am weak! You’re a distraction! I can’t… shit Mia, I can’t bloody control myself around you.” He sighs, taking a deep breath. “Look, let’s just… just go to bed.” He grabs a sweatshirt hanging on the back of the chair and moves towards the door.

“Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to sleep… somewhere else.” He turns to leave. “Goodnight.”

“I’m not finished.”

“Well, I am.” He yanks the door open angrily. 

“Newt…”

“Go to bed, Amelia.” And with that, he’s gone. 

“Shit!” Mia yells, stomping her foot. She picks up the first thing she sees, the chair, and slams it into the wall. She screams louder when it doesn’t break. Of course it doesn’t break. Literally, nothing happens — not even so much as a splinter. Defeated, she sits down on the bed. 

“Shit,” she says again, groaning this time when she realizes that the whole Glade probably just heard their argument, not to mention her temper tantrum. Sighing in frustration, she lays down and stares at the ceiling and waits for sleep to come.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Newt is still gone.

Mia’s eyes feel like they’re filled with sand — had she slept at all? She couldn’t remember. All she could remember is a few moments of bliss the night before, followed by angry words and a slamming door.

“Stupid,” she says aloud, lacing up her trainers. She needed to focus. If Newt thought that whatever they had was a distraction, her new goal in life was to show him just how undistracted she can be. He’d grossly misunderestimated her stubbornness. Or maybe he hadn’t.

She exits their Room and almost trips over a sleeping Clint, passed out in the doorway. She rolls her eyes and kicks him gently in the ribs.

“Rise and shine, princess.”

“Hey Peaches,” he says, still half asleep.

“What the hell are you doing? You’re lucky I didn’t break my neck.”

“Newt made me. Came and dragged me over about an hour ago. Said he had some shit to take care of early this morning. Needed someone to watch the door. No one in or out.”

That dumb shank. She’d be willing to bet her whole entire breakfast that he’d slept in the doorway, too. Asshole.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes again. “You are relieved of your duty. Go get some shut-eye before the rest of these shanks wake up and start cutting each other’s fingers off.” She steps over him and makes her way outside.

After a quick trip to the Map Room, Mia makes her way to the kitchen and grabs a few slices of toast, unsure that she can stomach anything more. Frypan raises his eyebrows at her unusually small breakfast, but says nothing.

“Mornin’ Peaches,” he says, handing her a lunch bag. “”Rough night?”

“Slim it, Fry.” She stuffs the bag in her pack and plops down on a bench across the table from the other Runners, who are listening to Minho divvy up orders for the day. Across the lawn, she can see Newt having a heated discussion with Alby near the Gardens. He shakes his head every few seconds, running his hands through his hair in the way that he does when he’s frustrated. They’re talking about her, she knows they are. Maybe he’s telling Alby that he’s done, that the only girl out of 50 Gladers needs to be someone else’s problem now.

“Peaches, are you even listening?” Minho interrupts her thoughts.

“No,” she says irritably. “What do you want?”

“I was saying,” he says, glancing sideways at the other Runners, “that you and Ian are going to run Section 7 today. Good that?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” She tosses her unfinished toast in the Slop Bucket. “You coming?” She turns to Ian. “Or you wanna sit around and gossip all day?”

“Who died and made you Keeper?” Ian glares at her.

“I got shit to do,” Mia snaps at him. “Move out or move on.”

“All right, all right. Everybody just slim it. It’s time to head out anyway.” Minho stands and leads the way out of the Mess Tent, the other Runners following. Mia brings up the rear and wills herself not to look towards the Gardens, towards Newt. She lifts her chin, squares her shoulders, and walks confidently towards the South gate. She stares straight ahead and tells herself she is the absolute picture of focus.

Screw him, she thinks. And she takes off after Ian into the Maze.

“What now?” Alby sighs as loud shouts from the South Gate echo throughout the yard, interrupting the last of their daily rounds. “I swear, if those slintheads are arguing about maps again…”

“C’mon,” Newt claps him on the shoulder and chuckles, his mood a marked improvement from earlier in the day. “Let’s go see what the damage is.”

Alby rolls his eyes and follows behind him as they make their way across the grass, the sun beginning to settle in a fiery orange ball behind the West Gate. They come upon the Runners, who are gathered around Minho and Teddy as they shove each, yelling loudly. Newt reaches the boys first and yells over the din of their argument. 

“Oy! You lot, what’s the situation? Someone get their undies in a twist?” He starts to laugh, but his smile fades when he sees the somber looks on the faces staring back at him.

“What’s all this?” Alby walks up behind him. “Minho, you…”

“We do a count,” the Keeper says, his words coming out between labored breaths. “We’re supposed to do a count once everyone is back. Every day.” He glares at Teddy.

“I swear! I did one as soon as we got back. Maybe I counted wrong at first, but they’re not here!” The younger boy throws his hands up in defense.

“You got klunk in your eyes? You can’t count to nine without trouble?!”

“Who’s missing?” Alby cuts in.  
He’s met with silence and immediately knows the answer.  
“Where is she?” he says after a moment.

“No,” Newt says, shaking his head as he realizes what his friends are saying. “She’s first out. She’s always first out. That’s the rule.” He looks wildly from one Runner to the next as reality sets in. None of them meet his eyes. “Maybe she’s… maybe she’s somewhere… you must’ve missed her. She’s around here somewhere.”

“She was running with Ian today,” Minho says without taking his eyes off the ground. “He’s not back, either.”

“Mia!” Newt starts towards the Gate. “MIA! AMELIA!”

“Stop.” Alby grabs his arm. “Don’t even think about it.”

“We have to go after her. I’m not leaving her out there!” Newt rips his arm from Alby’s grasp and whips his head around to face the Runners again. 

“You know the rules,” Alby says, refusing to look away.

“Those are rules for common bloody slintheads. This isn’t… this is…”

“I know what this is,” Alby barks. “Rules are still the same. No one goes in.”

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispers.

Newt’s head snaps towards that gate as the telltale grinding sound of metal on metal fills the Glade. “No!” he yells, sprinting towards the shrinking entrance.

Alby is faster. Advancing on him from behind, he wraps his arms around Newt’s shoulders and squeezes hard, digging his heels in to hold them both in place.

“Let me go! Let me go, you bloody traitor. She’s IN there! We’re leaving her to die!” He struggles against his friend, flailing wildly, pulling towards the opening as it grows smaller and smaller. But Alby’s grip holds fast. “I’ll never forgive you,” he chokes. “Never.”

“I know,” his friend tells him as they both sink to the ground.

All the Runners watch helplessly as their Second-In-Command falls limp in the arms of their leader, the sounds of his sobs drowned out by the slamming Gates.


	11. Chapter 11

The bright light behind Mia’s eyelids threatened to split her head wide open. Is this what happened after you died? She hadn’t imagined there would be so much pain after the fact.

And cold. Is that what being dead felt like? Cold on the back of her arms and legs. Fire and sand in her throat, tightness in her chest. Being dead was more uncomfortable than she would have ever imagined.

Then she felt something tickle her left arm and her whole body jumped, pain shooting through every nerve.

Definitely not a dead person thing.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Whatever light that was shining directly at her immediately began to burn a hole through the back of her skull and she slammed her eyelids shut. Okay, so not dead. But definitely not alive, either. How could she be alive? Had she been dragged back to wherever the Grievers holed themselves up and somehow survived? The last thing she remembered was the horrible, shuddering machinated monster standing over her ready to sting her, Ian hanging limply from its arm.

Ian.  
Shit.  
She had forgotten about him.

If she was there, where was Ian?

Taking a deep breath and wincing at the pain in her chest, Mia lolled her head to one side. Maybe the bright light was only directly above her? Maybe she could see better if she didn’t look straight at it. Slowly again, carefully, she opened her eyes. No bright light this time, but blurry green patches swam in front of her. Green? What use would Grievers have for anything green? As the shapes came into focus and it became clear that she wasn’t with the Grievers at all.

Ivy.  
She was still in the Maze.  
She couldn’t escape the stupid thing. Even in death/butnotreally death.

As she processed this information and allowed her eyes to adjust, she watched a low-hanging ivy leaf move lazily in the soft breeze against her forearm. That’s what she’d felt tickling her. And the bright light in front of her eyelids was the sun.

With the realization that she was, in fact, still alive despite any and all logic, Mia began to take stock of her situation. Nothing about this made sense — the last thing she had seen was a Griever. A Griever who had Ian. She should be dead. And yet, here she was.

What would Newt say? “Start with what you know for sure and go from there.”

Newt.  
Where did he think she was?  
Was he worried?  
Maybe he didn’t care that she was gone. Maybe he was glad to be rid of her. Maybe he’d be disappointed if she made it back to the Glade.

If.

What did she know for sure? She knew she was on her back, on the ground, in the Maze. Everything hurt. Everything. She wiggled her fingers and toes experimentally and sucked in a sharp breath at the pain. So, she knew for sure that she was on the ground in the Maze and couldn’t move. Alive, but trapped. A lot of shucking good that did her.

With a small sigh, Mia ran through her options.

Option 1: She could lay here in the Maze and wait for another Griever to show up and put her out of her misery. That seemed like the most likely scenario, since she didn’t imagine she’d get lucky enough to avoid certain death twice in the same day.

Was it even the same day?  
How long had she been out?

That thought brought her to Option 2: lay here on her back in the Maze and wait for dehydration to do its job. She could already feel the dryness in her throat and the ache in the pit of her stomach, so that was inevitable. How long could a person survive without water? Three days, maybe? Was it possible that she had been out there that long without another Runner finding her body?

Option 3: lay here in the Maze and wait for another Runner to find her. Where was “here?” Mia wasn’t even sure she was still in Section 7. She couldn’t tell by the ivy in front of her face, and it hurt too much to move so she could investigate. Ian had definitely been taken by a Griever — that was a certainty — and Mia was in the Maze. Which meant they were down two Runners. Could they have replaced both of them that quickly? Would they have enough Runners to cover the amount of ground that would allow someone to find her? If she was still in Section 7 (and that was a big if), they were probably concerned about a Griever lurking about and might want to avoid the area. Rightfully so. There had been a Griever lurking about. In the daytime. Which meant it was also likely that someone wouldn’t be along until tomorrow, and Mia wasn’t sure she could wait that long. If it had been more than two days, she was dead for real.

All of those choices sounded like shit to her. She was not keen on laying on the ground in the Maze, waiting for real Death to come for her, in whatever form fate decided upon.

So that meant her only real option was Option 4: Move.  
Move. Get up. Find her way back to the Glade.

The first item on the agenda was to move. In order to do that, Mia needed to figure out how to deal with the total and complete agony that made motion impossible to even think about it. She started with deep breaths. Slow and careful, until the pain in her chest quelled to a dull, manageable ache. Then she began to move her head from one side of her body to the other until she regained a reasonable amount of motion in her neck. She repeated the process through her legs and toes with moderate success, not counting the curses she hissed through gritted teeth. When she got to her fingers and arms, she found that she was able to move her left side but not her right, which told her that she’d sustained some sort of injury. Okay, not a total disaster. She could do this with one working arm, even if it was her left one.

With a deep breath Mia lifted her left arm and, reaching as high as she could up the wall of the Maze, she grabbed a hold of the vines. Then, she hauled herself upright.

An involuntary scream ripped itself from her mouth as she pulled herself into a sitting position, blinding pain radiating from her right shoulder. A foggy memory of slamming face-first into the wall and then falling to the ground danced in front of her as she tried to collect herself, but faded before she could grab onto it.

With her tongue between her teeth she brought her left arm to her right, making an attempt to move her useless appendage. She cried out again as a new barb of pain shot it’s way across her shoulder, her injured arm hanging by her side limply.

Okay. Definitely busted. What a bunch of shit.

But she was sitting, and that was a 50% improvement from 10 minutes ago. Plus, with her back to the wall, she had a much better vantage point. Now she could figure out what section she was in and get the shuck out of here. Looking left to right, it was clear that she wasn’t in Section 7 anymore. How was that even possible? Maybe the Griever had dragged her? Or did she and Ian get lost?

Ian.  
There he was again.  
Something about him, about their run, swam in front of her but she couldn’t quite grasp it.

Later.  
She needed to focus  
There was no way she was going to die in the Maze — not if she had anything to say about it.

Surveying what she could see of her surroundings, she knew she had to be in Section 5. To her left, she could just barely make out a right turn, then a sharp left, and then a right turn into a dead end. This meant that the closest exit was the East Door and the fastest route there was to her right.

Her right.  
The side with her bad arm.  
Of course.

The next item on her to-do list was “Get Up.” Taking more deep breaths, she readied herself to make an attempt to stand, reaching above her head with her good arm and securing the vines in the tightest grip she could manage. She looked at the sky — the sun was already in the Western half, making its way slowly to the horizon. It was late and the doors would close soon, and she knew she couldn’t survive another night out here.

She had to get moving.

Crying out at the effort, Mia used all of her strength to pull her injured body up the wall as far as she could into a crouched position and pushed with her legs to complete the task of standing. As she did so, pain shot through her left leg. A second injury. Lovely.

How was she going to do this without the use of half of her body? And on different sides, to boot. Tears of frustration stung her eyes as she swallowed a sob. How was she going to do this by herself? There was no way. She might as well give up and let the Grievers take her, for real this time, so they could finish what they started.

No.  
“NO,” a voice boomed in her head. “My Amelia ain’t no quitter.”  
Where had she heard that?  
Newt.  
Newt, a million years ago.  
A million lifetimes ago.  
Would she ever hear his voice again?  
That stupid accent of his, those dumb things he said to try to cheer her up.

She had to keep moving.  
Her pain didn’t matter.  
No one was coming to help her.  
She was on her own.

Balancing on her right foot, Mia reached around her body with her left arm and pulled herself along the ivy. It was slow going, but it was movement all the same. After what seemed like miles, but was probably only a few hundred feet, she stopped to catch her breath. She would kill a Greenie for some water right now. No, three Greenies. She didn’t care. Her mouth was drier than Frypan’s day-old biscuits.

Frypan’s biscuits.  
She would kill a Greenie for one of those right about now, too.  
It had been at least a day since she’d eaten, if not more.  
When had she and Ian stopped for lunch?  
She remembered talking about it, taking sandwiches out of her pack (where was her pack?) and then nothing.

Mia shook her head and continued her slow journey to the corner of the wall, several hundred feet in front of her. There, she would turn right. Then left, then left, then right again, and then a final left before she would be able to see the East Door. It seemed impossible. But she had to try. She was going to either do it or die trying out here in the Maze. For real, this time.

Finally, she reached the corner. Fumbling blindly, her hand closed around the first vine she could reach as she pulled herself around with a grunt.

And then the vine snapped.

With a yell of surprise, Mia fell backwards, hitting her head on the concrete floor with an audible smack. The world spun in front of her, and she had to laugh because why not? She was back on the ground. The ground she had worked so hard to not be laying on. The ground in the stupid Maze where she was going to die, and no one was ever going to find her body. This was it. She’d never get out of this place. Never figure out who she was in the Outside World. She would never see her friends again. She’d never sit around another bonfire and listen to Minho’s stupid stories or hear Alby laugh or see Newt smile.

Newt.  
She closed her eyes and tried to picture his face.  
His brown eyes and floppy blond hair and that crooked smile.  
The weight of his arm around her shoulders.  
The way he called her “Love.”  
The sound of his breathing while he slept.  
She could almost hear it, slow and rhythmic.  
It was getting closer now.  
Was this it?  
Was this the form of Death fate had chosen for her?  
Maybe this wasn’t the worst way to die.  
She took a deep breath and smiled, grateful to have some small comfort at the end.

And then, Death spoke.

“Did she just breathe?”  
“Mia?”  
“Dude. I definitely just saw her breathe.”  
“Mia? Can you hear me?”  
“Is all that blood hers?”

Mie groaned.  
Why did Death have to speak so loudly?

“She’s alive. Holy shit.”  
“Mia. Wake up.”  
“How in the hell…”  
“Shut up! Mia, honey. Can you hear me?”

“Minho?”

Her Death sounded like Minho?  
That didn’t seem fair.

“She’s alive! I don’t shucking believe it. Help me get her up.”

Mia felt a set of hands grab either arm.  
“No!” she croaked.  
“On my count. One, two…”

She screamed on “three,” her right arm bursting into flames at the movement.  
Mia groaned and leaned back, a pair of hands catching her this time before she hit the ground.  
“Shoulder’s busted,” she murmured, opening her eyes ever so slightly.

Apparitions of Minho and Ben crouched down on either side of her.  
Two of them?  
This didn’t seem right.  
Why were there two of them?

“So it would seem.” The Thing That Looked Like Minho laughed quietly.

“Are you real?” Mia whispered. “Are you taking me now?”

“We’re taking you home, honey. Can you walk?” He motioned to The Thing That Looked Like Ben. “Help me get her up.”

“Leg’s busted too,” she said, opening her eyes fully.

“Then I guess I’m carrying you back. Here, drink this.” Something cold hit her lips and she groaned as the sweet, cool water trickled down her throat. Did Death give water to everyone?

“I don’t get this man,“ DeathBen’s voice said. “She should be dead. That we even found her body…there’s just no way…”

“Slim it. Doesn’t matter. We found her. I’m going to carry her back — she’s in no shape to walk. Run ahead of us and tell Clint to meet us at the East Door. Tell him to bring something to clean up cuts, maybe some painkillers, water. Ice if we have any. Get Alby, too. Don’t make a fuss. There’ll be ruckus enough when the rest of them shanks figure out what is going on.”

“Good that.” The Thing That Was Not Actually Ben turned his back, breaking into a run down the corridor.

“Hey!” The Thing That Was Not Actually Minho called after his partner, stopping him mid stride. “Don’t tell him. Not yet. Just in case.”

With a slight bob of his head in acknowledgement, he’s gone.

“Okay honey. Let’s get you out of here.” Suddenly, one very solid arm wrapped around her ribcage while another positioned itself under her knees. “I’m gonna lift you up, okay? Might hurt a little but we’ll get you patched up good as new, soon as we get back. Ready?” Mia nods, still not fully understanding how any of this was possible. Did dehydration cause hallucinations? Maybe she’d heard that somewhere.

Suddenly, her body is in the air and she cries out in pain as the movement jostles her injuries. Everything hurts again.

“I’m sorry honey, I know it hurts. We’re gonna get you home and Clint will fix you up, right as rain. Just stay with me a little longer.”

“Is this real?” Mia whispers again as he breaks into a jog.

“Real as anything else around here.”

“Promise me?”

“Promise.”

“Head hurts so bad. Feels like I drank too much moonshine. Everything is all fuzzy. Can’t remember.”

“I’m sure it does,” Real Minho chuckles as he rounds a corner. “But you gotta stay awake, okay?”

Mia groans.

“You gotta stay awake just a little longer. Talk to me.”

“Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing much,” he laughs again. “Everyone has been pretty wrapped up the last day or so. Distracted, and the like. Our best girl went and got herself lost in the Maze.”

“You guys were worried?” Warmth blooms inside Mia’s chest at the thought.

“Worried? We thought we lost you, dummy. We weren’t worried — we were devastated.”

They travel in silence for a moment or two, the cadenced lull of Minho’s jogging pulling Mia towards sleep. Just as she reaches it, a thought shakes her awake.

“Min? Was he… how did… what…”

“You know he was. All of it. As bad as you can imagine, probably worse.”

“I didn’t think…” Mia’s voice trailed off.

“What? Are you stupid now, too? You spend two nights in the Maze and now you got klunk for brains? He’s not him without you, Mia.”

“He’d figure it out,” she says sleepily. “He managed before.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” he says as he turns down the final corridor. “Hey hey, stay with me. Look! We’re almost there. I can see the trees from here.” 

Mia turns her head to the side and can just make out the Homestead on the far horizon. “Never thought I’d be so happy to see this heap of shit. Or you assholes,” she laughs softly.

“Never thought we’d be so happy to see your stupid klunking face either, honey.” Minho picks up speed, sprinting the last few hundred yards to the Gate and calling to Clint as he goes.

“I got her, I got her!” Clint meets him right at the threshold, grabbing Mia’s limp body from Minho’s arms as the Runner collapses onto the grass. “I don’t believe it. I don’t…this isn’t possible. I didn’t believe Ben when he told me.”

“Water!” Minho gasps. “She needs water. And ice. She’s overheating. Shoulder’s busted up real good. Ankle too.”

“Hey Peaches,” Clint says softly as he lays her down on the grass, crouching down beside her. “How you feelin’?”

“I’ve had better days,” she says, breathing out another small laugh. “Head hurts. Everything hurts. Wanna sleep.”

“I know, I know. You gotta hang on just a little longer. I’m gonna give you something to make you feel better, all right? Open your mouth for me, okay?” Mia can feel him gently place an ice cube on her tongue and shudders at the cold, grateful for the relief it brings.

She opens her eyes in time to see Alby appear next to Clint’s face, breathing heavily as if he’d just run around the Glade ten times.

“Mia?” He looks back and forth between her and Minho for answers. “How..?”

“No clue. Says she can’t remember a thing. We found her like this, laying halfway between Section 5 and the East Gate. Thought she was dead.”

“Shuck it. We’ll figure it out later. We’ve gotta get her inside before he sees us. Won’t do either of them any good to have him flying off the handle.”

“Okay Peaches, I’m gonna sit you up. Is that all right? Can we do that? Alby, get her other side.” Before she can object, the boys are lifting her into a sitting position. Mia screams as the movement sends bolts of pain racing from her shoulder through her fingertips.

“Well if he didn’t know before, he definitely knows now,” Minho sighs. “I’d say we’ve got about 60 seconds until all hell breaks loose, so you’d better do your thing before it gets ugly.”

Clint grunts in frustration and turns to rummage through the bag hanging off his shoulder. “I’m gonna give you a shot, all right Peaches? It’ll help you sleep so I can get you fixed up.”

As he’s fumbling through the compartments, Ben skids to a stop in front of them.

“He heard her. He’s coming.”

Alby pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Clint? Now.” He sees something in the distance and breaks into a run. “CLINT!” He screams over his shoulder. “NOW!”

“Got it!” Clint turns his head to face Mia. “Peaches, this might sting a little, but it’ll help you feel better.”

Holding a syringe filled with clear liquid between his teeth and with one hand supporting her back, Clint uses the other to carefully hold her right arm and rest it on his knee. Mia’s ears begin to buzz, the sound around her building to a roar as her vision starts to blur. She barely registers the prick of the needle in her arm as Minho jumps up from the grass where he’d collapsed and starts running full speed in the same direction Alby ran.

“Where did everyone go?” Mia asks, barely a whisper.

“Don’t worry about that now, Peaches. Let’s get you sorted and then we can figure everything out. Good that?”

Mia smiles up at him as the roaring around her gets louder and louder. She feels the ground around her shake one, two, three times and wonders if she’s falling. Blackness begins to creep in at the edges of her vision, and the last thing she sees is a flash of blonde hair before everything fades away.


	12. Chapter 12

Hearing her scream is like waking up from a dream. His thoughts, jumbled and foggy from the last two days, suddenly becoming clear. Everything was immediately sharper, as if he had been jolted awake. He knows that noise. He knows her voice. He looks at Zart standing to his right, who is staring at him with wide eyes.

“Newt.” Zart heard it too.

He hadn’t imagined it.  
She was here. 

Dropping his gardening tools in a panic, he bolts towards the East Gate and the sound. He thinks maybe he hears Zart call his name again, but he ignores it. Ignores the pain in his leg, running full speed. He makes it a few hundred yards before an arm reaches out to grab a handful of his shirt.

“Newt!” Ben yells, stopping him. “Hold up.”

“Is it her?” He says, panting. Ben stares at him for a few seconds and then looks away. In that moment, he knows the truth.

It’s her.  
She’s here.  
She’s alive.  
He can’t breathe.

He yanks himself out of Ben’s grasp and takes off again. He hears his friend swear and is vaguely aware of him running in his periphery, passing him in a blur. Damn him.

It didn’t matter.  
She was somewhere up ahead of him and he had to get to her.  
Nothing mattered but her.

In the distance, he sees Ben come to a stop and say something to Alby. Minho is sitting on the ground next to Clint, who is crouched over a heap of dark hair. Alby says something to Clint, then looks over his shoulder to meet Newt’s eyes, realizing what’s about to happen.

Newt runs faster.

“CLINT! NOW” Alby yells over his shoulder and takes off running in his direction.

The wind is knocked out of his lungs as Alby clotheslines him, and he hits the ground with a thud. He scrambles up, only to be pushed down again roughly. 

“Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa. Just relax a second, ya shank!” Alby towers above him, yelling to get his attention. “Slim it, will ya? Give it a minute!”

“Is it true? Is it her?” Newt gasps.

“Hold on, just…” Alby is cut off as his friend grabs his ankle, pulling his legs out from under him and toppling him to the ground. 

Newt jumps up, screaming incoherently. Suddenly, Ben is in front of him and Minho appears out of nowhere. He crouches down low and drives his shoulder into Ben’s chest in an attempt to upset his attacker, but it’s no use. The two boys are too strong as a team, despite his height advantage.

They pull him to the ground with a roar, close enough now that he can see Clint pushing a needle into her arm. He screams again and pulls against the hands restraining him, desperate to see her face. He is pushed to the ground face-first, grunting as someone forces his hands behind his back and presses a knee between his shoulder blades.

Turning his head, he can finally see her small form clearly with its mess of dark brown hair and pale skin. Her eyes are closed, and he gasps at the realization that her clothes are covered in blood.

So much blood.  
He didn’t realize a person could have that much blood in their body.

The world around him comes to a stop, and all he can see is the quick, labored rise and fall of her chest.

She’s breathing.

With this knowledge, he sucks air into his lungs with what feels like his first breath in days. His exhale turns into a sob and he squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, Clint is holding two fingers to her wrist and measuring her pulse with his watch.

“That was close,” Clint says as Alby appears next to him. “We’ve gotta move her. I need to figure out how badly she’s busted up. Don’t think she’s stung but we won’t know for sure until I check her out.” He looks Newt in the eyes as he says this last part, speaking more to him than their leader. “We gotta be gentle, like. Don’t wanna make things worse than they already are.”

“All right, asshole.” Alby kneels down so he’s eye-level with Newt. “Are ya done flipping your lid? You heard what Clint said. We gotta move her and we don’t need you and your hot head screwing it up.”

“I can… let me…” he chokes, the pressure from the knee on his back intensifying as he begins to struggle again. 

“Slim it. You got klunk in your ears? We gotta do it carefully and I ain’t too confident that you can accomplish that right now. So, you’re gonna sit here and watch and maybe that will help you understand that you’re not the only one who wants her to see the other side of this thing. You’re gonna sit right here and you’re not gonna interfere and you’re gonna let Clint and Jeff do their jobs.”

Newt’s eyes dart wildly between his friend and Mia’s nearly lifeless body, laying mere feet from him.

“And,” Alby continues, “you’re not gonna touch her until Clint says so.”

“Gee, thanks for bringing me into this,” Clint gripes, clearly not wanting to have any involvement in this part of the plan.

“You think you can do that for me, shank?” Alby’s gaze intensifies. “Because if you exhibit anything other than a 100% success rate here, I’ll throw you back in the Pit myself. And I guarantee that when Mia wakes up?” He motions with his head towards her. “She’ll be none too happy to hear about your behavior and I pity the poor shank that ends up at the other end of her ire. Good that?”

Newt takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes as he exhales and nods in agreement.

“All right. I’ll take that as a yes. Let him up.”

Minho and Ben release their holds on him, and he pushes himself up into a sitting position to watch as they join Alby and Clint. His fingers twitch with anticipation, arms tingling as his blood flow restores itself.

“I’ll hold her head,” Clint says to the others. “Alby, slide your arms under her and support her ribs. Min and Ben, one of you right above her knees and the other one right below them. We’re gonna go slow- we gotta move her as little as possible, understand? On my count. One, two…”

On “three,” the four boys rise slowly from their crouching positions and lift Mia’s unconscious body off the ground into the air. She moans in her sleep as they do so, and Newt makes a move to stand.

“Offer for a trip to the Pit still stands, slinthead.” Alby shoots a look in his direction, and Newt sinks back to the ground.

Slowly, the boys make their way towards the Med Hut. Every small moan Mia makes feels like needles in Newt’s chest. He can do nothing but watch helplessly as his friends carry the human embodiment of his heart across the Lawn.

“C’mon,” Alby yells at him finally, motioning for him to follow. “You keep your distance though, otherwise I’ll make you regret it.”

Newt doesn’t need convincing. He jumps up and jogs towards the group. Hovering behind them he strains for a view of their cargo, desperate for a glimpse of her face. Her breath still comes in quick, shallow bursts but it’s there. Every few feet, she whimpers softly, her face twisting momentarily in pain before she relaxes again. A dark curl that escapes her disheveled ponytail falls across her face and Newt has to stop himself from reaching out to tuck it behind her ear, remembering Alby’s promise. He bites the inside of his lip, trying to keep his wits about him as best he can, straining at the effort it takes to not scream and claw at his skin as he is forced to sit and watch his nightmares come alive. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he was in Hell. Maybe he’d done something awful before, when he was in the Outside World, and was being punished by having to watch the thing he cared most about dying in front of his eyes and unable to do a bloody thing about it.

Finally, mercifully, they reach the Med Tent and Clint kicks the door open to grant them entrance.

“Let’s put her in the room on the left. Newt, shut the door to the tent behind you.” he directs. “Jeff! I need ice and gauze whatever rags you can get your hands on. We gotta figure out where all this blood is coming from.”

Jeff comes pounding around a corner to meet them and freezes when he sees his friends, his shock evident by the look on his face.

“What are ya waitin’ for?” Clint barks over his shoulder when his assistant fails to move from his spot. “A written invitation? We ain’t got time for this shit. MOVE!” Eyes still wide with a mixture of disbelief and confusion, Jeff races off to complete his task and the four boys squeezed through the doorway towards the bed at the far corner of the room.

“Okay,” Clint breathes. “Set her down, real soft and gentle. Ready?” Slowly and carefully, Mia’s body is lowered onto the bed. The very real sight of her tiny frame laying there, covered in blood and barely breathing, makes something in Newt’s chest clench painfully. Jeff pushes past him with an armful of supplies, dropping them on the table next to Clint.

“All right,” Clint yells, his adrenaline making him louder than necessary. “Everybody out. No one comes in or out of this room unless I say so. Ben, shut the front door and don’t let none of those shanks outside in the Tent unless they’re missing an eyeball. Min, go drink some water and take a breather. You,” he points at Newt, “out. Alby, door duty.”

“Right, you heard him. Let’s beat it.” Alby puts his hand on Newt’s shoulder and pushes him out of the room, Ben and Minho shuffling in front of them on the way to their assignments. “She’s still breathing,” Alby said, closing the door behind him and taking his place in the doorway. “Ain’t nobody better to set her right than Clint.”

“Alby, if she…”

“If nothin’. She ain’t going nowhere.” The two friends stare at each other for a few moments, silent except for the low murmur for Clint’s voice behind the closed door.

Then, the screaming starts.


	13. Chapter 13

Newt paces back and forth in the hallway outside the room, hands moving anxiously through his hair. Alby stands in the doorway unmoving with arms crossed, eyes never leaving his friend.

“Keep your head on, shank. Cool off.”

“He’s been at this for hours, Alb!” Newt throws his arms in the air exasperatedly. “I can’t take it. Bloody sounds like he’s ripping her apart!”

“Now you know well and good that ain’t what Clint’s doing. He’s the best person for her, ‘least right now he is. You just settle yourself and try to get your head right for when she wakes up.”

Newt sighs and leans back against the wall opposite the door. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he says, gazing up at the ceiling.

His Leader leans one broad shoulder against the doorframe. “I don’t know why you can’t seem to get this through that dumb skull of yours. You ain’t the only one with something at stake here. You ain’t the only one with something to lose. None of those shanks out there want anything other than for her to wake up. You ain’t the only one who cares.

“And you know what? It ain’t just about her. You think we want to see you like this?” Alby sighs. “Look, I know. I know this is hard. But you’re one lucky shank right now. I’d give anything to be in your shoes and have Chelle laying on the other side of this door.”

“I just… I didn’t…” Newt’s voice trails off.

“You didn’t realize you could feel so many different feelings? Feelings you didn’t even know existed?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, well. Ain’t no picnic, is it?”

“How did you do it? How did you… make it? You know, after.”

“Almost didn’t,” Alby says quietly.

“Yeah,” Newt responds, understanding.

Suddenly, the screaming stops. The boys hold their breaths, staring at each other silently for a few moments before the door behind Alby opens to reveal an exhausted looking Clint and Jeff, bother covered in sheens of perspiration.

“All right,” Clint says as he steps into the hallway, Jeff shuffling past them. “She’s asleep.”

“Is she going to be okay?” They both exhale audibly.

“I think so.” He wipes his brow with his sleeve.

“You think so?” Newt scoffs.

“Listen asshole,” Clint sighs as he closes the door behind him. “This has been a very stressful couple of days for all of us, for a variety of reasons and no thanks to you and your dramatics, so I’ll let that slide. But I’d like to remind you that I got my job the same way you did. So yeah, I think she’s gonna be okay.”

He turns to Alby. “Best I can tell, no stings. She’s got some busted ribs and a dislocated shoulder. Ankle’s not broken, probably just a bad sprain. There’s a deep cut on her scalp near her hairline, like she cracked her head on something, and I figure that’s where some of the blood came from. Scalp wounds’ll have you bleeding like a stuck pig.”

“What about the rest of the blood?”

Clint shrugs. “She’s pretty bruised up and she’s got some scrapes on the side of her face to go with that shiner, scratches on her legs, but no other gashes or deep wounds from what I can see. Could be wrong though — she was fighting us pretty hard. Took everything I had to pop her shoulder back into place. Stitches on her head might not be too straight, either.

“I got her packed down with some ice to try to lower her temp. Could be an infection but she was also laying in the sun for almost two days with no water, so who knows. Not sure how long she’ll be out, but I gave her another shot of painkiller just now.”

“Another one?” Newt’s brow furrows in confusion. “You already gave her one out by the Gate.”

“I ain’t never seen anything like it. She busted right through the first round of medicine as soon as I touched her in there. Screaming and thrashing so much that I was sure she’d been stung, even though I couldn’t see it.” He turns to Alby again. “I don’t know what happened to her out there, but I’d bet my dinner it wasn’t good.”

Newt’s hands twitch at his sides. “Can I…?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Clint says, opening the door a crack. “Just don’t wake her up. I’ll be in to check her pulse. Call me when the ice melts.” He lopes off down the hall, his shoulders sinking with exhaustion.

Unable to wait any longer, Newt pushes past Alby and into the room. With her hair encircling her pale face like a crown, Mia’s lays sleeping peacefully with her head propped up on several pillows. Her breathing is deep and uniform, enough to make him almost forget the state of her health a few hours prior.

Wasn’t there a story that ended like this?  
A fairytale about a sleeping girl who looked dead but was not dead?  
He couldn’t remember.  
But he did know that this girl was here.  
In front of him.  
Alive.

Tentatively, he makes his way across the room to the chair next to her bed. He slumps down into it with a heavy sigh, the sound of the door closing quietly somewhere far away in his brain.

“I’m here love,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

When Mia wakes this time, the light behind her eyes is much softer. When she opens them, the first things she sees are worn wooden boards several feet in front of her, solidly stationed above and she smiles in spite of herself. She can smell antiseptic and the tiniest hint of something metallic in the air. The Med Tent.

Turning her head, the next thing she sees is Newt sitting in a chair next to her, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands. With his cloud of blond hair and his wiry frame illuminated by the low glow of the lamplight, Mia thinks that he just might be the best thing she’s ever seen. Maybe even magical.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey love,” he says, matching her volume, sitting up a little straighter.

“I guess I missed out on all the excitement.”

“I don’t know that I would call it excitement, exactly,” he chuckles quietly. “How do you feel?”

“Horrible,” she laughs. “Like shit. Feels like I’ve been through the ringer.” She sizes him up, able to make out the shadows of bruising on his arms and dirt streaked across his cheeks. “Looks like I could say the same for you.”

“Yeah well,” he laughs again, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

“Rough like you thought maybe you were dead?” Mia jokes.

“Yeah,” Newt smiles. “Something like that.” He reaches for her hand, taking it gently. “Mi… I….”

He’s cut off as the door opens. Clint walks in, striding purposefully towards Mia while Minho and Alby hang back in the doorway.

“Hey guys,” she smiles at them. “Has anyone around here showered or combed their hair since I’ve been gone? You all look like you’ve spent a whole week rolling around in the animal pens.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t lookin’ too fresh there yourself, honey.” Minho laughs.

“Well, your heartbeat’s closer to normal than it was an hour ago.” Clint looks at his watch, holding her wrist in his hand. “So that’s something. I’d say that means you’re probably headed in the right direction.” As he says that, Newt sighs with relief.

“Ian,” Mia says suddenly. “Ian was in the Maze with me before…” She looks at Minho again. “Is he… did…?”

Minho shakes his head. “Sorry honey. No sign of him. You were alone when we found you.”

“Peaches, you know we gotta ask.” Alby looks at her nervously. “What do you remember?”

Mia feels the color drain from her face as she squeezes Newt’s hand in a vice like grip.

“Bloody hell, Alb. She just woke up. Slim it for a bit, would ya? She’ll tell us when she’s up for it.” He squeezes her hand back and she relaxes just a bit.

“He’s right. She needs to rest.” Clint moves to leave the room. “And water. As much as ya can without getting sick. Food too, if you’re up for it but I wouldn’t blame ya if you weren’t. I heard a rumor that Fry’s got some peaches waiting for you, though” He pats Mia on the head and skirts past Minho and Alby through the doorway, making his exit.

“She has a point,” Minho turns to Newt. “You do look like shit. Let’s take a walk, get something to eat.”

“She’ll be fine,” Alby cuts in as he opens his mouth to protest. “I’ll sit with her. Get some air. Take a shower.”

“Go. I’ll be okay.” Mia pats his hand reassuringly. Newt stands, staring intently at Alby.

“I know, I know.” Alby claps his hand on Newt’s shoulder and pulls him towards the door, giving him a small push out of the room. “I ain’t letting her out of my sight. No one in or out until you get back. Go on.” He nods at Minho who puts his hands on their friend’s shoulders and ushers him out of the room before Newt has a chance to change his mind, shutting the door behind them.

“Hey Peaches,” Alby sinks into the chair tiredly. “How you feelin’?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that,” Mia says with a quiet laugh. “How should I be feeling?

“Fair enough,” Alby responds with a smile. “You gave us a hell of a scare there. Thought we’d lost you for good.”

“Sounds like I missed all the excitement.”

“Don’t know that I’d call it that, exactly.”

“Was he… was it bad?”

Alby sighs. “It was awful, Mi. You can’t even imagine. I ain’t never seen nothing like it in my life. He lost his mind. Lost it. It took three guys to take him down after those Gates closed and you didn’t make it out. He was like a wild animal. We had to throw him the Pit, I thought he was gonna kill someone. Still not totally convinced he wasn’t about to. Or himself, for that matter.”

“Do you really believe that he would’ve done something like that?” Mia had a hard time picturing someone so gentle and calm lashing out with such intensity. He was always so careful with her, too careful even. Her sweet, kind Newt.

“I don’t know what I believe,” Alby says, rubbing the back of his neck. “And this… you…” he gestures to Mia, laying in bed. “This ain’t helping that. You shouldn’t be here. You were gone for two nights, Peaches. Two nights and almost two days and there’s no reason you should be alive, but here you are.

“Don’t think I ain’t grateful. I’m not sure what he would’ve done, what we would’ve done without you. I… after Michelle, it was like my mind was missing. I couldn’t sleep, food tasted like poison, water tasted like dust. I wasn’t sure how to carry on. All I could think about was what I could do to change it, what I could do to make the feelings go away. Almost followed her, too. Thought about it more than once, more’n I’d care to admit. But Newt... he made it easier. Not better, but easier. He pushed me forward, made me believe that maybe there would come a day when missing her didn’t hurt so bad. I wasn’t sure I could do that for him — I didn’t think that I could help him the way he helped me, and I was scared we were gonna lose him too. After he spent the night in the Pit, he wouldn’t come out. Wouldn’t eat nothin’, wouldn’t drink. I finally had to drag him out on the second day and stick him in the field with Zart so someone could keep an eye on him. Losing you was bad enough, but Newt holds us together. Those shanks might call me their Leader, but the Glade doesn’t exist without him. That boy of yours, he’s our glue.”

“Yeah,” Mia says with a small smirk. “He’s good for something, I guess.”

“You got that right. And without you, he just doesn’t make sense. It’s like you’re his oxygen.”

“Is that what Michelle was?” Mia yawns. “Was she your oxygen?”

“She was my oxygen, she was my sun, she was my whole heart. I knew exactly what he was feeling when he realized you weren’t coming back, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change it. Ain’t no doubt about it, you didn’t just save him when you fought your way out of there. You saved us, too.”

“Guess I’m good for something too,” Mia says sleepily.

“One or two things, sure.” Alby chuckles. “Hey now, you just close your eyes. I’m not going nowhere.”

Mia murmurs in agreement, shifting deeper into her pillows. Alby begins to hum quietly next to her, sending her off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: mentions of suicide here.

“Ughhhhh,” Mia groans. “I feel so gross.” Newt is back in the chair next to her bed, looking slightly more energetic after a hot meal from Frypan’s kitchen and a shower. “And I’m so over laying on my back. I spent two days on my back out there and one in here, can’t I just get up already?”

“I don’t think so love,” Newt chuckles. “Your ankle’s still pretty busted up. But at least I know you’re feeling better, now that the complaints’ve started.”

“What about a shower?” She whines. “Please? I’ve been covered in blood for three stinking days.”

“Let’s see what the doc has to say.” Newt makes a fist and bangs on the wall behind him three times. As if on cue, Clint opens the door.

“You rang?”

“The lady would like a shower. Is she cleared?”

“Well,” Clint considers the question. “As long as she keeps the sling on her shoulder, should be fine. It’s just torn up old sheets, so water won’t hurt it none. Warm water might do her ribs some good, probably’ll help the cut on her head, too. The ankle… think you can stand on one foot, Peaches? We can carry you over to the Showers.” Mia nods enthusiastically. “Good that. Newt, help me get her up.”

Gingerly, Mia shifted herself to a sitting position and pushed the blankets covering her lower half aside. She gasped at the sight of her legs, covered in scratches. She looks at Newt in confusion when she notices that her pants have been torn off below the knee.

“So Clint could fix up the cuts on your legs,” he explains. “Without, you know… having to take everything off.” Mia eyes widen with embarrassment momentarily, understanding what he’s saying. “It’s all right, love. Let’s get you on your feet. You’ll feel better after you’ve had a shower. Good that?”

Mia nods and swings her feet around the side of the bed, planting her right foot firmly on the floor. Carefully, Clint and Newt place a hand under each arm and another on her back for support, lifting her into a standing position.

“Don’t put any weight on that left foot,” Clint reminds her. “Now, this shirt… we’re gonna have to cut it off. Her, uhhh… you know,” he moves his hand to his shoulder and pantomimes pulling a bra strap. “That thing, too.”

“What?” Newt and Mia say in unison, both clearly disliking the idea.

“She’s been laying on her back for days. All the blood’s gone and dried up and now the shirt is stuck to her skin. Ain’t no way she can get the off over her head without taking some of her skin with it.” Mia winces at the thought. “Might be we could soak the shirt off, but that means I’m headed into the shower with her…”

“We’ll cut it,” Newt interrupts him. “Never did like that shirt much anyway.” He gives Mia a small smile. “Okay love, I’m gonna stay right here and hold on to you while Clint cuts it from the back. Right Clint?” He looks at the other pointedly. “He’s gonna cut it from the back and I’ll hold this blanket up to cover you once it’s off.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Clint reaches for a pair of medical scissors on the nearby table, shuffling slowly around Mia’s body and places his hands gently on her back. “Okay Peaches, I’m gonna start cutting. We’ll go real slow to make sure everything gets unstuck. Good that?”

Mia looks up at Newt who smiles at her encouragingly and places his hands on her shoulders to steady her. With her small nod of agreement, Clint gets to work. As soon as the metal touches her skin Mia jumps in alarm, her arms flying to Newt’s sides where her fingernails dig into his ribs.

“You gotta stay real still Peaches,” Clint says quietly, concentrating on his task. “Remember I got some right sharp scissors back here. Don’t wanna get caught by surprise.”

Biting her lip, Mia nods again. As the snip snip of Clint’s scissors fill the room and more of her skin exposed, she begins to shake. Tears fill her eyes and to roll down her cheeks, and Newt reaches up to gently wipe them away with his thumb.

“Shhh… it’s okay, love. I’m right here.” Mia buries her face in his chest, swallowing the small sounds of fright threatening to escape her throat. 

What the hell was happening to her? She wasn’t scared of anything, and she certainly wasn’t scared of scissors. Or Clint. Maybe the sun in the Maze had fried her brain. 

Finally, Clint is finished and together he and Newt gently pull the rigid fabric from her body. As it drops to the floor, Newt pulls wraps the blanket he’d been holding around the front half of her body. 

Behind her, she hears Clint swear.

“What’s the matter?” Newt asks over her shoulder.

Clint doesn’t speak for a moment. “We need to get Alby.”

“What? Why?” Mia can’t see the expression on Clint’s face, but see’s Newt’s eyes flash with the tiniest hint of irritation.

“See for yourself.” Still maintaining his grip on Mia and the blanket, Newt cranes his neck around her side to get a better view of her back. “Bloody hell,” he says when he sees what Clint means. There are several seconds of silence and then, “go get him.”

“Jeff!” Clint shouts. “Drop whatever you’re doing and go find Alby. Tell him to get his worthless ass over here and tell him it’s an emergency. No one else in or out, ya hear?” The sound of quick footsteps, followed by the slamming of a door confirms Jeff has heard his latest order.

“What’s wrong?” Mia whispers. “Am I stung?”

“No, no love,” Newt soothes, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her neck. “Just some more bruises we didn’t catch.”

“Why do we need to get Alby? Maybe the Grievers…”

“Grievers don’t make these kinda bruises,” Clint says. “They can’t make handprints. Griever’s ain’t got hands.”

“They’re…handprints? I’ve got handprints on my back?” Mia furrows her brow, looking up at Newt in disbelief. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Ain’t nothin’ about the last three days makes any sense, Peaches.” Just as Clint speaks, she hears Alby enter the room. “Take a look at this.” She feels Alby move closer to examine the marks covering her back.

“What the hell? Are those… handprints?”

“Ain’t no doubt,” Clint tells him.

“How? Did a Griever get ahold of her out there?”

“No way a Griever did this. Griever’s can’t make those kinda marks.”

“Maybe when we were carrying her…”

“Alby.” Clint cuts him off. “I’ve seen these before.”

“What? When?”

Clint says nothing for a moment. “Michelle.”

“What?” Alby says, his voice barely a whisper.

“When we found Michelle. After she… we checked her out after we found her body to make sure she hadn’t been stung and we found the same marks. Same spots, two different sizes. Just like these.”

The room is quiet for a long time after that. Mia stares at Newt, trying to make sense of anything Clint had just said as he stares over his shoulder worriedly at Clint and Alby standing behind her.

“I don’t know what this means,” Alby says finally, breaking the silence, “but it means something. We keep this between us for now, got it? I got some thinking to do.” Mia hears him turn to leave the room. “You,” she sees Newt’s eyes follow him to the door. “I don’t need to tell you this, but you don’t let her out of your sight. No one comes near her, no one touches her. Not until we figure out what the hell is happening here. Good that?” He exits the room without waiting for a response.

“Well,” Clint sighs. “That went just about as well as I thought it would. All right Peaches, you’re good to go for now. Same rules: sling stays on, no weight on the ankle. Here,” Mia sees him pass Newt something over her shoulder. “Have her take these after she’s done gettin’ washed up. They’ll take the edge off, help her sleep. She’s bound to be pretty sore for a while yet.”

“Newt,” Mia says abruptly. “I can’t go out there. My shirt…” She looks down at the blanket covering the front of her torso.

“Not to worry, love.” Newt brings the corners of the blanket behind her and wraps is tightly around her body, covering her injured back. “I’ll carry you the whole way.”

“But everyone… they’ll see me.” For some reason, the thought fills her with dread. 

“That,” Clint says, “you can leave to us. Besides, Gally’s been dying to give an order all day. If any one of them shanks so much as looks at you, we’ll cut out their eyeballs.” He gives a small salute in Mia’s direction and turns on his heel, exiting the room.

“You ready, love?” Newt gives her a small squeeze of reassurance and scoops her up into his arms. 

They make their way outside into the cool night air and Mia buries her face in his shoulder, unable to bear the thought of all the other Gladers staring at her as she is carried across the Lawn like a child. She doesn’t need their sympathy, doesn’t need them to whisper about how weak she must be. If she can’t see them, they can’t see her. At least, that’s what she tells herself. 

“Eyes front, shank.” Her anxiety dissipates somewhat as she hears Gally bark somewhere in the distance, and can’t help but smile. “You look at me and nowhere else, you got it? It happens again and I’ll feed you to the Grievers for a bedtime snack.” 

Newt pushes the door to the Showers open and sets Mia down on one of the long wooden benches that line the walls of the cinderblock building, the blanket still wrapped tightly around her body. She watches him fondly as he fusses with the water flow in one of the shower stalls, making sure the temperature is just right. Her tired body glows with adoration for this kind, thoughtful boy. What was she going to do with him?

Satisfied that the water is warm enough, Newt reaches to help her stand and she leans into him as she hop-walks over to the stall, avoiding the use of her left ankle. Here in this empty room, where it’s just the two of them, her remaining anxiety dissolves. It feels almost normal, despite the fact that she almost died 24 hours ago and she’s still not sure what happened the night before she got lost in the Maze. She recalls the events of that night — the look in his eyes beside the fire, the way his lips touched hers, the feeling of his hands grazing over her skin — and she shudders involuntarily. 

“Are you going to help me get undressed?” Mia asks, gazing at him innocently through her eyelashes. Newt laughs nervously in response. 

“Um… I think you can handle that bit yourself, love.” The trepidation in his voice makes him sound louder than necessary. 

“You are no fun at all,” she says, annoyed. “What’re you gonna do, close your eyes the whole time?”

“No, I’m going to stand right in front of the stall with my back to you. Just like this.” He spins on his heel, facing away from her with arms crossed. “Hand me that blanket. Water’s getting cold.” 

Mia sighs dramatically and throws the blanket on the ground next to him. Removing the clothes on her bottom half with one hand is a challenge, but eventually she manages to wriggle her way free and tosses them on top of the blanket. She moans as the warm water hits her damaged skin, soothing the bruises and cuts scattered up and down her body. Clint was right, the shower is helping immensely. 

She moans again and hears Newt clear his throat behind her. She rolls her eyes and reaches for the soap, both fascinated and disgusted by the amount of dirt and blood that washes off her body and down the drain. Once she is satisfied that every speck of debris has been removed, she reaches for the shampoo and realizes that her current inability to use her right arm has created a challenging situation, as far as her hair is concerned. 

“Shit,” she says. 

“All right, love?” 

“I…” she sighs. “I need your help.”

“How’s that?”

“My hair. I can’t wash my hair with one hand.” Newt doesn’t respond. “Please? It’s so tangled right now, I don’t even know if I could do it with two hands. Please, Newt? Please?”

“Fine,” he says after a beat. “But no funny business, all right? Otherwise, I’ll have Gally shave your head and then you won’t have to worry about washing your bloody hair ever again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, handing him the bottle and turning her back to him. “You love my hair. It’s one of the best things about me.” 

“That’s not entirely true,” Newt chuckles as he begins to work the soap through the knotted strands of her hair. “You have several other fairly decent qualities, or so I’ve been led to believe.”

“Such as?”

He laughs. “Such as, your ability to steal all the blankets in the middle of the night, and your ability to tackle unsuspecting Greenies with a death wish. And let’s not forget your ability to eat more peaches than all the other Gladers combined.” 

“Ha ha,” Mia says sarcastically. “What else?”

“Well, there’s your habit of keeping your opinions to yourself and your tendency to listen when other people speak.” 

“That must be some other girl you know. Ow!” She glares at Newt as he tries unsuccessfully to untangle a knot. “That hurt, ya dumb shank.” 

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “You weren’t kidding. It’s a mess back here.”

“Gee, thanks.” She rolls her eyes. “What else? What else do you like about me?”

“Your inability to avoid ridiculous conversations is obviously near the top of the list,” he chuckles again. 

“What about the way I look?”

“What about it?” he asks, not taking the bait. “You… your face… your face is nice.”

“My face is ‘nice’?”

“Bloody hell, you’ve got a lot of hair.” Newt quickly changes the subject, sweeping a handful of curls across her back and over her shoulder. 

He pauses, gently tracing the collection hand-shaped bruises across her spine. After a moment, he bends down to kiss her shoulder, moving slowly up her neck with such tenderness that it makes Mia’s heart ache. His hand finds the curve of her waist, tracing upwards lightly and then stopping just below her ribcage. Something familiar inside her flickers, like the flame of a candle, and her exhale turns into another breathy moan. 

“All right. Rinse.” Suddenly, Newt’s hand is gone and he is standing up straight again. Damn him. 

Gritting her teeth in frustration, she turns around to face him and steps back under the showerhead. He’s staring at her and his eyes never leave hers, not even for a moment. His gaze is intense, as if he’s determined to make her understand… something. 

“Your clothes,” Mia says finally, breaking the silence. “They’re soaked.”

“S’okay,” he says, his brown eyes still fixed on hers. “I’ve got others.” 

When all the shampoo is gone, Newt leans in and turns the water off behind her. He reaches around the corner of the stall to produce a towel, handing it to Mia and turning around again as she dries. 

“You know,” she says, feigning casualness, “I am shocked that none of those assholes out there tried to barge in here. This isn’t even my usual shower time. They must be steamed.” 

“Nah, it’s all right. I’ve got Teddy standing guard at the door. No one in or out.” 

“Teddy?” Mia stops. Her skin begins to prickle and anxiety builds in the pit of her stomach again.   
Teddy.   
Something about Teddy.   
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember. The memory hangs in front of her for a split second, then floats away. 

“All right love?”

“Yeah,” she says, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just tired” She wraps a towel around her, knowing Newt doesn’t quite believe her but also knowing he won’t push her. He was never one to make her do something she didn’t want to do, her Newt. 

“Shit,” she says, suddenly realizing another predicament. “I didn’t grab any clean clothes.”

“Well then,” he says with a smile. “It’s a good thing you keep me around, isn’t it?” He grabs for his pack laying on the benches and reaches inside, producing a small roll of clothes. “What would you do without me?”

“Sleep in a whole bed all by myself without having to listen to your stupid snoring all night long.” She grabs the bundle of clothing from his outstretched hand. 

“Yeah,” he says, turning away from her as she dresses. “But you would miss me.”

“Not bloody likely,” Mia mocks. 

After she’s fully dressed, Mia lets Newt carry her back to the Homestead without any complaints. Maybe she is tired, after all. As they make their way across the Lawn she stares up at the stars, unconcerned with hiding her face from the other Gladers this time around. Stars. When was the last time she had seen stars? Had there been stars at night in the Maze?

“Hey Newt!” Minho yells from somewhere near the Council Hall. “You know you’re supposed to shower with your clothes off, right?”

“Just fancied a leisurely evening swim is all,” Newt calls over his shoulder.

When they make it back to their Room, he carefully sets Mia down on the bed. 

“Feel better, love?” 

“A million times better,” she says. “That was the best shower in the history of showers.”

“Good that,” he says and hands her a glass of water. “Here. Take these.” He opens his palm to reveal two tiny white pills. “Doctor’s orders. Clint says they’ll help you sleep.” 

“Fine,” she says, too tired to argue but not too tired to roll her eyes. She takes a sip of water and swallows the pills in one gulp. She leans back into the pillows and breathes in Newt’s familiar scent. There’s soil and pine, grass and smoke. She wishes she could put it in a jar and carry it with her everywhere.

“You’re not going to sleep in the chair again tonight, are you?” She yawns and watches as he begins to off his sodden clothing, barely able to keep her eyes open. 

“I don’t know, love. You’re still pretty beat up… I don’t want… ”

“Please?” she whines sleepily, eyes finally closed. “We’ve already spent so many nights apart. It’s such a waste. You’ll be careful. I know you will.”

“All right, all right. You win.” Mia smiles to herself, hanging on the edge of sleep as she listens to the sounds of Newt changing into dry clothes. Soon after, she feels his weight on the bed and he slides in behind her. He wraps one long arm around her waist and draws himself nearer, his chest resting against her back.

She feels him plant a small, gentle kiss on the top of her head before she drifts off into a dreamless sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: rape/non-con

“I swear to God, Peaches.” Clint is examining her shoulder, moving it back and forth slowly to test the range of motion. “If I take this sling off and you do something stupid like try to climb a tree or get into a fight or something dumb like that, I’m not patching you up again.” 

“You’re lying, but I won’t. I promise.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But I’ll be real steamed. Okay,” he says, satisfied with his findings. “Two weeks isn’t a long time to have a sling on, but you’re on the mend for sure. I’ll let you take it off IF you behave yourself and take it easy. Good that?”

Before waiting for a response, Clint is out of the room and Mia smiles at Newt as he leans against the wall. 

“Told you,” she says with only the smallest hint of triumph in her voice.

“Yeah, well. I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” He pushes off the wall and follows her outside. 

“C’mon! They already lit the fire. That’s the best part!” 

“Don’t RUN.” He scolds. “Did you listen to a word Clint said?”

“No, I didn’t. Fine! Fine.” Mia laughs as he gently grabs the back of her ponytail to slow her down. She feels like they have a lot to celebrate tonight — her sling is finally off, her ankle feels better, and things are finally starting to feel normal again. Even though it’s not a Greenie Day, when Alby announced that he thought it was time for a bonfire everyone had cheered. He said he figured they needed something happy to cover up the strangeness of the last few weeks. 

And they had been strange, for so many reasons. Try as she might, Mia couldn’t remember a thing about being in the Maze or what happened to Ian. In fact, the only thing she could remember was heading off the morning of the day she got lost. She remembered being angry at Newt and then nothing. Alby was good about not asking too many questions, especially after Clint found the bruises on her back, but she could tell he wanted answers. She just wished she had some to give him. 

Mia and Newt settle onto the ground beside one another, leaning against their usual log. Without hesitation, he gently places his arm over her shoulders and she leans into him, smiling. Things seemed different, were different. He was still the same careful, deliberate Newt but now his behavior in front of the other Gladers was closer to the way he acted when it was just the two of them: there was no reluctance to hold her hand or put his arm around her. There was no kissing (even in their Room at night it was only small pecks on her forehead, in spite of her efforts otherwise) but it was something. 

“This is nice,” she says quietly.

“Mmmm,” he agrees. 

After a while, the warmth of the fire and the sounds of merriment around them envelope her in a calm, blissful state. She must’ve fallen asleep, because her body is jolted awake by something — some noise, possibly laughter nearby. As she yawns and looks around at the other Gladers scattered about the lawn, the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with suspicion as though someone is watching her. Confused, she tries to make out figures in the dark without success. 

“You okay, love?” Newt tilts his head downward, his voice concerned. 

“Yeah,” she says, stifling a yawn. “I think I’m just tired. I guess I feel asleep.”

“We should get you to bed,” he whispers, placing a small kiss on top of her head. He stands, wrapping his arm around her waist to help her as he goes.

“Night Teddy,” he says over his shoulder. Immediately, Mia’s skin begins to prickle again and she presses her face into Newt’s shoulder involuntarily. 

Teddy.  
She needed to get away. 

“Carry me?” She asks Newt in a small voice. 

He looks at her like she’s lost her mind. For the past two weeks, this has been an argument between the two of them — he thinks she should stay off her ankle and try to recover from her injuries, she unwilling to be seen carried around the Glade like she wasn’t perfectly capable of walking. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Newt had argued. “The only person who has a problem with it is you.” 

Now, he scoops her up in his arms and says his goodnights as they pass others on their way back to the Homestead. Mia leans her head on his shoulder and buries her face in his neck, willing herself to not look behind her. Somehow, she knows she’s going to see Teddy staring at them as they walk away. 

Once they’re safely inside their Room, Newt sets her down carefully before turning to close the door. When Mia wraps her arms around him from behind and squeezes gently, he smiles and turns again to kiss her softly. Seeing the opportunity, she reaches up to put her hand behind his neck to deepen the kiss, desperate to push thoughts of Teddy out of her brain. 

For a moment, it feels like Newt is going to give in. His lips part and his mouth opens to her, a quiet but desperate noise escaping him involuntarily. For an even briefer moment, his arms wrap around her and he pulls her flush against him. His hands rest on the small of her back, flexing as if they can’t make up his mind. 

And then he’s releasing her, moving past her to fuss with the blanket on the bed. 

“Newt.”

“Yes love?” He’s as nonchalant as possible, and it’s making her angry. 

“This is dumb.”

“What’s dumb?” 

“This.”

He stands up straight and faces her, his face neutral. “You’re going to need to be more specific.”

“Jesus,” she rolls her eyes. “What are you trying to prove? The worst thing that could possibly happen basically already happened and we survived it. If I had died out there…”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head.

“No, really. If I had died out there, all of this: the pretending and then the not-pretending-but-still-pretending and the arguing and the denying what’s actually happening? All of it would’ve been for nothing.

“Do you know,” she says, sitting down on the bed to look up at him, “do you know that when I woke up out there, and I had no idea if I was dead or alive or something in between, the only thing I could think about was getting back here to you.”

He stares at the floor, unspeaking. 

“And you. You lost your shit when I didn’t come back. Don’t try to say you didn’t,” she holds up her hand when he opens his mouth to protest. “I know you did. Alby told me everything. Hell, everyone told me. I know they had to throw you in the Pit. I know that when Minho brought me back, they had to tackle you to the ground.

“You told me once that you knew when I came up in the Box that we needed each other. Don’t you think all of that means something?”

Newt sighs and sits next to her on the bed.

“If you don’t want this…” Mia is cut off as he takes her face in his hands and all she can think about are how brown his eyes are and how close his face is to hers. They’re inches apart his warm breath dancing across her cheek. 

“Please stop talking.” Now he’s staring at her lips and her heart is beating so fast she’s sure he can hear it. 

“But…”

“Amelia. For once in your goddamn life, just…” he finishes his sentence by pressing his mouth to hers and suddenly her brain can’t remember how to make words. 

Even as his hands make their way to the back of her neck to tangle in her hair, she can’t entirely focus on what’s happening. Her body stays tense, Mia’s so sure he’s about to pull back again like always. Newt notices and tugs on her hair gently, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“You’re sure?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against hers. “You know what the others will say.” 

“They’re going to say whatever they want to say,” she laughs softly. “They don’t get to make my choices, I do. And I choose you.”

Thinking back on this night later, Mia will recall this as the moment when everything changes and the invisible barrier between them breaks. Newt’s eyes flash darkly and he surges forward to capture her mouth with his. Suddenly, his hands are everywhere — tangled in her hair, her thighs, her hips. His fingers dance at the hem of her shirt and he pulls back to stare at her, breathing heavily. His eyes are practically black, pupils blown wide and she knows he’s teetering on the edge, trying to maintain his composure. His hands start to shake as he lifts her shirt over her head, taking care to move her shoulder as little as possible. He freezes when he sees the half-healed bruises and cuts that still litter her body. 

“Hey,” she says, placing her hands on his face to refocus him. “Hey. This is not what we’re focusing on right now.” She reaches around behind her and unhooks her bra, dropping it on the floor. “Okay?”

Newt swallows thickly, nodding. 

“It’s just… this is…”

“I know,” she whispers. “Me too.”

Mia leans back on the bed, gently guiding his arms to pull him with her. 

“Is this okay?” She asks when her head is resting on the pillow as his long body hovers above hers, still trembling slightly. 

“More than okay,” he says softly. 

“Then kiss me.”

Something in him visibly changes as she says this and his lips are on her again, scattering kisses from her neck, to her collarbone, and her sternum. He makes his way down her stomach to her hips where he hooks his fingers into the waistlines of her underwear, looking up at her through his eyelashes. Slowly, torturously, he pulls the garment down her legs, never breaking eye contact. Now it’s Mia’s turn to shudder, goosebumps peppering her skin as he stands at the foot of the and stares at her like she’s the rain and he’s just spent a year in the desert. 

“You,” she directs, “are wearing way too many clothes.”

Somewhere between a smirk and rolling his eyes, he lifts his shirt over his head. As he unbuckles his belt, the reality of the situation, what they’re about to do sets in and her breath catches in her throat. For a moment, her nerves get the better of her and she starts to feel self conscious about her state of undress, her bruises, the cuts. 

Then she remembers where she is and the person standing in front of her. This is Newt, the person who would cut down every tree in the Glade to keep her safe. In this moment, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. 

With that same hungry look in his eyes he begins to crawl towards her, all lean lines and long limbs. When he stops halfway up, she looks at him questioningly. 

“You may not remember the Outside World,” he says, planting a kiss on the inside of her thigh, “but there are a few things I happen to remember.” He smiles, maybe even a little wickedly, and gently pushes her knees so that she’s open before him. 

“What the hell are you… hoooooly shit.” Her hand flies to her mouth as Newt licks a long stripe up the center of her core and swirls his tongue around the sensitive spot right at the top. “Jesus Christ,” she hisses. “Warn a girl when you’re going to do something like that. I almost yelled so loud the whole Glade heard me.”

“For the love of god,” he pauses his efforts to glare at her. “Shut the hell up.” 

She holds her hands up in surrender, gasping when Newt returns his attention to the spot between her legs. Mia bites her lip as he uses the flat of his tongue to press against the small bundle of nerves that had elicited such a positive response the first time. He pushes a finger between her folds and she’s unable to hold back the moan that escapes her. 

Her skin is on fire and she’s almost positive that, this time, she’s actually going to die. She tries to focus on the muscles in Newt’s shoulders, his back, rolling with his every movement. The heat builds inside of her and all of her limbs feel tight, like they could snap at any second. Her heart is pounding and she feels lightheaded and she grabs at Newt’s hair desperately, unable to cope with the growing sense that she’s about to lose control. 

“Newt,” she gasps. “I need… please…”

Understanding, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, pushing himself onto his knees and positions himself at her opening. 

“It might hurt,” he says, his voice like gravel. She shakes her head, a silent statement that she’s not about to change her mind. Not now. 

Placing one hand firmly on her hip, he lines himself up and enters her slowly, eyes closed. 

Time stops.  
Neither of them breathe for hours, but maybe it’s actually just seconds. 

“Newt,” Mia says, wincing at the stretch.

“Give me a minute, love.”

“I swear to god if you don’t move…”

“Jesus, do you even stop talking?”

“...I’m going to scream at the literal top of my lungs.”

“Okay, okay. Just…” He finally takes a breath and pulls back, eyes still closed. 

When he pushes back into her, they both groan at the feeling and Mia swears she sees his eyes roll backwards. Lifting her leg and gripping her thigh, Newt leans forward to adjust the angle and the pressure of him inside of her deepens. He pistons his hips, faster this time, and the pain is replaced with a pleasant ache. With every thrust, the out-of-control feeling from before builds, traveling up through her stomach and into her chest. 

She gazes up at him, his eyes still closed in concentration. How many times had she dreamed of this moment, laying there next to him, listening to him sleep? For more than a year, this very scene had been haunting them, waiting in the wings and stalking her periphery. Was this everything she thought it might be? 

No.  
No, she decided.  
It was better. 

“Hey.” She reaches up to brush his hair off of his face, drawing him down to rest his forehead against hers. “Let go.” 

His grip on her thigh tightens, and she almost laughs because there will certainly be a bruise there tomorrow.  
“I’m here with you. You can let go.”

This time, he nods and begins thrusting harder still as his lips meet hers. Mia can feel the small noises that he’s making grow with every movement, finally crescendoing into moans that she captures with her mouth. And then, with a final muffled yell, he stills and she can feel the tension melt from his body. 

Panting still, he rests his head on her shoulder and holds himself above her with one arm, unwilling to press his full weight against her but equally unwilling to let go of her. 

“Okay, okay,” she laughs breathlessly when his arm starts to shake after a moment. “Move before you collapse.”

“Have you always been this bossy?” He shakes his head and shifts off of her, laying on his side to face her. 

“Yes.” She says matter of factly.

“That was…” 

“Yeah?”

“I’ve thought about that for a long time.”

“Really.”

“Mmm.” He draws lazy patterns over her skin with a single finger. “For a while, it was all I could do to not think about it.” 

“You could’ve fooled me,” she says dryly. 

“Hey now,” he pinches her gently, playfully. “We’ve been through this.”

“I guess.” She yawns and shifts onto her side, facing away from him to press her back against his chest. “Does this mean you’re going to stop acting like an asshole in front of the other guys? I mean, cat’s out of the bag now. No point in pretending.”

“I was never pretending, love. I think the way I felt, the way I still feel, is pretty obvious to everyone but you.” He presses a kiss to her temple. “You don’t know what some of those shanks say about you. About us. Even before tonight.”

“I don’t care,” she responds sleepily. “No one is going to make me feel ashamed for doing something they all wish they could do. You shouldn’t feel that way either.” 

“Okay,” he chuckles, draping his arm over her side. “If you say so. Now go to sleep. We’ve got a Greenie Day tomorrow.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Goodnight, love.” 

The sun was high overhead when she and Ian skiddes to a stop on their third lap of Section 7. Sweat poured down Mia’s face and her legs were burning, but all she felt was anger. Anger at Newt for being such an asshole the night before, anger at Minho for making her run with stupid Ian, the slowest Runner of all time, anger at whoever put them in this damn Maze in the first place. 

“Did you hear me?”

“What?” She snapped. 

“I said, can we stop and eat something? It’s past noon. I’m starved.” 

“Fine. Whatever.” She turned away from him to open her pack, rummaging for a sandwich. 

“You’re late.”

“What?” She turned back to face Ian and Teddy was standing beside him, staring. 

“Yeah, well,” Ian said irritably, “I couldn’t get her to stop running until just now.” 

“What are you doing here?” She asked Teddy, accusingly. “You’re supposed to be in Section Six.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t a guy socialize during his lunch break?” She caught him glance at Ian out of the corner of his eye. 

Something was wrong. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Dread forms in her stomach. 

Run, something in the back of her brain said. 

Mia turned to break into a sprint, crying out as a sharp pain bites the back of her head, gripping her hair. 

“Where you going?” Teddy’s voice snarled. “Thought we were gonna socialize.” He tightened his grip on her hair and pushed her forward, slamming her in the wall in front of them. The pain in the back of her head became the pain in the front of her head as warm, wet blood began to run down her face and into her eyes. Disoriented, she felt herself pulled to the ground. Through cloudy vision, she saw two dark figures standing over her. 

Fight, the voice in her head says again. 

Mia started kicking her legs wildly, flipping herself over in an effort to try to stand. She screamed as her head was pulled back again roughly and slammed into the ground, one, two, three times. Her vision swam, the bright light of the sun making it impossible to see anything but orange splotches. As her right arm was forced behind her back, she felt something pop. She tried the scream again and was silenced by a hand clamping down over her mouth. 

“Shhhh.” Teddy’s lecherous voice is in her ear again. “Just try to relax. It won’t be as fun for us, but it’ll be over faster.” 

As a response, she bit down hard on the hand covering her mouth. 

“Stupid bitch,” he spat, kicking her in the ribs. “Always gotta make shit difficult.” Mia could feel weight pressing down on her back, her spine, her injured shoulder, as if to drive her further into the ground 

“Assholes,” she groaned, struggling against the pressure. “I’ll kill you both.”  
“Nah,” it’s Ian’s turn to speak this time. “You’re nothing without your little boyfriend to protect you.” He pushed her down again. 

“What are you doing? Hurry the hell up.” Teddy’s voice grew impatient. 

“Help me flip her over. I want to see her face when it happens.” 

Mia felt both sets of hands on her again as Ian and Teddy rolled her over on her back. Her head was killing her, her right shoulder was on fire, her ribcage felt like it might cave in at any second. 

Then, she saw Ian start to fumble with his belt and she knew what was about to happen. 

Fight, the voice in her head said again. 

Ignoring the fire in her chest as she inhaled, Mia screamed at the top on her lungs. Someone had to hear. Someone needed to come. 

She opened her mouth to scream again and felt a fist connect with her left cheek. 

“We gotta find something to stuff in her mouth…”

And then, a screech rips through the air. The horrible, grinding sound of metal-on-metal invaded her ears, but her brain faltered, unable to process what it meant. 

“What the hell…” 

Mia squinted as the sun suddenly disappeared. The world around her started to spin as strange, spindly shadows danced in the corners of her eyes. The grinding noise turned to a roar and Ian and Teddy both turned their heads, their eyes widening at something in the distance.

“Shit! Run!” 

Teddy took off running and disappeared from Mia’s sight. Before Ian followed suit, he turned back to her, hesitating.

And that?  
That would be the last mistake he made.  
The hulking form of the Griever loomed behind them, a cracking sound replacing the grinding. Ian’s face froze in a silent scream as a fountain of blood poured from his chest.

Everything became a swirling mass of red and metal and ivy as Ian’s twitching body was lifted above her, blood still flowing from where the creature’s arm had pierced him. Mia felt like she was drowning. In the blood dripping down her face from where Teddy had smashed her face into the wall, from the blood raining down on her as Ian hangs limply in the air. 

She closed her eyes, blocking the horror out.  
This would not be the last thing she saw, Mia told herself.  
She saw the Glade in front of her, not a dead person.  
She felt the sun on skin, not her broken ribs or the stinging of someone else’s blood.  
She heard Newt laugh, not the awful screeching sound of a Griever as it went in for the kill. 

Vaguely, she felt something hard clamp down on her left ankle and suddenly she was moving. Dragged along the concrete, the uneven grouns cut into her skin and new pain rose to the surface. 

No, the voice in her head said. Just go to sleep.  
Sleep would make it better. 

“Newt,” she whispered one last time. 

And then the world fell away. 

It’s dark when she wakes up.

“Newt!” She screams and her arms fly out in front of her to push the Griever away. 

“Hey, hey love. Shhh..” 

There’s no Griever.  
Just Newt.  
Her Newt.  
His arms are around her and he’s whispering soothing words into her ear. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You were having a bad dream.”  
“It wasn’t a dream.”

“What?” He stills.

“Newt, I know what happened. I remember.”

“You remember?”

“I remember what happened in the Maze.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, my darlings.  
> Here's the deal: this is the last backup chapter I have. SO, as such, it might take more like two days (rather than my requisite one day) to post.  
> I promise it's happening but I want to do this story justice and do it right, which means I don't want to rush it.  
> It'll be worth it, I swear.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Mentions of rape/sexual assault and suicide here.

“Go on. Tell them what happened, love.”

They are seated inside the Council Hall. All of them — Alby, Winston, Frypan, Minho, Clint, the rest of the Keepers. Even Gally was there. And they were all staring at her, waiting for her to say something. 

Mia takes a deep breath. 

“I remember what happened in the Maze.” Everyone’s eyes widen, apart from Alby and Clint, who have already heard everything she is about to say. Newt places a hand on her shoulder reassuringly and the room stays silent, waiting.

“Ian and I were running Section 7,” she begins shakily. “It was lunchtime and we stopped to eat. I didn’t want to stop but Ian said he was hungry so…” she shrugs. “And then all of a sudden Teddy just… appeared. Out of nowhere.”

“Teddy?” Minho asks

“Yeah. I turned around and he was just… there.”

“What was he doing there? He was supposed to be in section 6.” 

“I don’t know. Or… I didn’t know. Not at first.” Her hands start to shake and Newt covers them with his own. “But something felt… it just felt wrong.” She can feel her eyes start to well up with tears and takes a moment to collect herself, determined not to cry in front of anyone. “I told him he wasn’t supposed to be there and something just felt wrong and I felt like I needed to get out of there but when I turned around to run away he grabbed the back of my hair and smashed my face into the wall.”

A couple of the guys murmur in disbelief, and Newt’s hand tightens over her own. 

“Why would he do that?” Fry says confusedly, looking around the room for answers. “He just… started beating the shit out of you for no reason?”

“They were both… I was on the ground and they were both holding me down and kicking me and hitting me. I tried to scream and I tried to fight but I couldn’t see and my head hurt so much.” She can feel the tears forming again, but this time she lets them roll down her cheeks. “And then, right before… before… before they could do anything, Teddy ran away and a Griever stabbed Ian through the chest before he could follow him. The last thing I remember is it grabbing my ankle and dragging me before everything went black. The next thing I know, I’m in a totally different part of the Maze and it’s two days later and everyone thinks I’m dead. Including me.” She takes a deep breath and buries her face in her hands. 

Alby clears his throat. 

“So, what you’re saying is that Ian and Teddy attacked you in the Maze and then Teddy ran away and a Griever killed Ian and but instead of killing you, it dragged you.”

Mia nods. Alby looks at Minho.

“Teddy was the first person out of the Maze that day. He’s the one who was supposed to do the headcount and when it happened I thought that he’d made a mistake. I thought that he’d just counted wrong the first time around and missed that Peaches and Ian weren’t there.”

“And now?” Alby asks.

“Now I’m not so sure. He’s been acting real squirrely ever since Peaches woke up and started walking around again.”

“Clint?” Alby looks at the Keeper of the Medjacks, waiting for him to weigh in. 

“Her injuries line up with what she remembers. Big old cut on her forehead, busted shoulder from where they twisted her arm, broken ribs from where they kicked her, messed up ankle from where the Griever dragged her.”

“And?”

“And,” Clint sighs. “There were bruises on her back in the shape of handprints. Only way she got those is from some assholes holding her down. Hard.”

“I don’t see what that proves.” Gally has been silent and unmoving since the conversation began. Mia’s skin begins to prickle and she opens her mouth to respond, but Clint shoots her a look and beats her to it. 

“Look, all I know is that this girl isn’t afraid of anything. She’d run headfirst into a building on fire without hesitation. Hell, she took on the Maze without a second thought. She saw a goddamned Griever and lived to tell about it. And all of a sudden, she comes back after whatever happened out there and she’s scared of her own shadow. She won’t let Newt out of her sight…”

“... so what?” Zart interrupts. “That’s how it’s been since day one.”

“Yeah, but it’s different now. Before, there were times she couldn’t get away from him fast enough if it meant she could climb a tree or hide out for the day to avoid work (no offense Newt). And now it’s like… she’s afraid of what will happen if she’s alone.” He looks around the room. “Don’t tell me you shanks don’t see it too. If you don’t, you’re all bigger idiots than I thought.” 

“There’s more,” Alby says quietly. “The bruises on her back… Clint says they found the same bruises on Michelle when… on the day that they…” his voice cracks. “Found her.”

Everyone’s eyes dart to Clint, who nods in confirmation. 

“Ain’t no way Peaches could’ve known about those marks. Me and Jeff were the only ones who saw ‘em. And there ain’t no way she could’ve made them by herself.”

“C’mon,” Gally rolls his eyes. “You know as well as I do who could’ve made them.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Alby looks at Gally incredulously. 

“How about her goddamned ‘roommate’,” he scoffs, using his fingers to make quotation marks in the air. “We all know what those two get up to. Maybe she likes it a little…”

Before Gally can finish his sentence, Newt is on his feet and his chair topples to the ground. 

“You piece of shit. You keep your goddamn mouth SHUT or I will shut it for you.”

“Are you saying it ain’t true?”

“What I AM saying,” Newt seethes, “is that it’s none of YOUR business what happens in that room behind a locked door. And that certainly doesn’t mean that anyone else gets to make assumptions about what Mia does or doesn’t like, or what she does or doesn’t want. I think we all know she’s perfectly capable of expressing her own opinions.” 

The two boys stand there for a few moments, staring at each other angrily. The air in the room is tense and it feels as though something is about to erupt at any moment. Mia reaches for Newt, gently grabbing his wrist and giving him a small smile. This seems to break whatever spell they’d been under, and he grabs his chair to sit next to her once again. 

“Anyways,” Clint continues with a roll of his eyes. “The bruises were two different sizes. That means they were made by two sets of hands. I don’t know about you guys, but I’d bet all of my dessert for the next year and then some that there’s no way in hell Newt would ever let anyone else touch her in his presence. So that eliminates that possibility.” 

“Clint.” Alby shakes his head, disapprovingly. 

“What?” He shrugs. “I’m not wrong.”

“I still don’t get..” Frypan interrupts. “I don’t get why they’d want to hurt Peaches.”

“I think we need to ask Teddy.”

Mia’s back stiffens.  
Teddy?

“Gally,” Alby instructs, “go get him. He’s in the Pit.”

No no no. Mia looks at Newt in alarm. She can’t be in the same room with Teddy. Not after talking about this all day. Her chest feels tight and she can’t breathe. The walls on the Council Hall start to close in on her. 

And then, just like always, he looks at her with those soft brown eyes and gives her the sweetest most reassuring smile. 

“It’s okay love,” he says as he threads his fingers through hers. “I’m right here.” 

Behind her, she hears the door swing open and two sets of footsteps. Her back stiffens as Teddy enters her line of sight, Gally marching to a waiting chair at the front of the room. He sits down easily crossing his legs and observing the group as though this were any other day, any other meeting. 

“What’s up guys?” He asks casually, but Alby’s not having it. 

“The day Peaches and Ian got lost in the Maze,” he says, standing over a seated Teddy. “What section did you run?”

“Section 6? I think?” He shrugs. “Who knows. Seems like a long time ago. The days here just sorta blend together, you know?”

“Did you run into any of the other Runners while you were out there that day?”

“Nah man,” Teddy yawns non-chalantly. “I ran my section like three or four times, stopped for lunch, ran some more, and then I was out before anyone else showed up. I did the count and I guess I didn’t notice that Peaches and Ian were missing at first.” He smiles at Mia and her blood turns to ice in her veins. “I felt real bad about it, too.”

“So this story about you and Ian attacking her is a lie then?” Alby’s voice is calm, but everyone in the room can hear the anger bubbling under the surface. 

“What?” Teddy looks around the room incredulously, searching for an ally to share in his disbelief. “You guys can’t be serious.”

“Well she didn’t beat the shit out of herself,” Newt cuts in.

“Listen,” Teddy leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I’m just as happy as the next guy that she made it out, but I have no idea what happened out there because I wasn’t there. She hit her head and her memory is messed up or something. And,” he’s smirking now, “and you’ve got no proof.”

The room sits cold and silent for several moments, considering this. Mia wants to collapse in on herself and disappear entirely. She can’t spend the rest of her life trapped here while Teddy lurks in the shadows. 

Was this a mistake? 

“He’s right,” Gally says finally. “We need proof. Other than Mia’s memory, we’ve got nothing. And we can’t end someone’s life over nothing?”

“Wait, END?” Teddy sits up in shock. “I think everyone needs to just take a second here…”

“...oh, is someone nervous now that his shitty behavior is catching up to him?” Newt spits. 

“Everyone take a breath and think for a second…” Alby tries to raise his voice above the din but it’s no use. Everyone is shouting now, arguing back and forth and the noise is deafening. 

“His hand,” Mia says suddenly. 

“What?” Newt looks down at her. 

“Check his hand. I bit his right hand. Hard enough that there was blood.” Without missing a beat, Newt crosses the room in three long steps and seizes Teddy’s hand. 

“What’s this?” he asks, pointing at the bandage wrapped around his palm.

Teddy shrugs again. “Dunno. I think I mighta cut it on a saw or something?”

Roughly, Newt pulls the bandage and his eyes widen. 

“Saws have human teeth now, do they?” 

He yanks Teddy’s arm into the air for everyone to see and, sure enough, there is a row of angry, red, tooth-shaped marks in his palm.  
Everyone is staring now, and Teddy begins to laugh. Softly at first, and then it escalates into a full-out cackle. 

“Oh c’mon you guys. Like none of you have ever thought about it before.” He looks up at Newt, still standing over him. “Just because you get to screw her whenever you want doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t deserve some fun.”

It happens so fast that Mia doesn’t even see Newt’s fist hit Teddy’s face. In an instant, Teddy is on his back on the ground and Alby’s hands are on Newt’s shoulders, pulling him away. 

“All right, all right. Take it easy.” He pushes Newt back towards his chair as Teddy struggles to stand up. 

“They put her here for a reason!” Teddy yells. “Why do you think they sent her?! It’s part of the game! They want us to…”

“You shut your mouth before I rip out your tongue,” Newt screams. 

“You think no one else sees it, but we ALL see it. You walk around, rubbing it in our faces…”

“ENOUGH.” Alby throws his hands up and the room falls silent again. “This is… we’ve never had to deal with something like this before. But we have rules for a reason. And the first rule is you never harm another Glader.”

“That’s not true.” Clint says quietly. 

“What?” Alby whips around to look at him. 

“Just because we didn’t see it before doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened.”

“Clint…”

“Michelle, Alby.” As he says this, the color drains from Alby's face. “One day you woke up and she was just… different. Something changed. We found the same bruises on her back. This was the change. Teddy and Ian were the change.” 

“Is that true?” Alby whispers to Teddy. “Did you do the same thing to her? Is that why she…” his voice trails off. 

“Alby,” Teddy says placatingly. “Why else would they send girls up here?”

The muscles in Alby’s jaw twitch and, for a minute, Mia thinks he might finish what Newt started. Instead, he takes a deep breath and addresses the rest of the Council. 

“I say we throw him in the Maze and let the Grievers do their job. Vote?”

“What the hell?!” Teddy seems genuinely surprised by this. “Alby, look…”

“Shut. Up.” Alby growls. “Or I won’t even bother with the vote. All those in favor?”

Mia doesn’t bother to look at who raises their hand and who doesn’t. She’s not sure she wants to know which of her friends are choosing her life over Teddy’s. She puts her head in her hands again, trying to focus on a single point on the floor and trying desperately not to think about what happens if they vote for him to stay. 

In this moment, she knows. 

She knows exactly how Michelle felt when she was faced with the prospect of living the rest of her life in the same confined space as Teddy and Ian after they did this to her. They were supposed to be her friends. They were all in this awful, shitty situation together. They were supposed to be on the same team. They were supposed to trust each other. 

Why hadn’t Michelle told Alby? Maybe he could’ve fixed it. Maybe she was ashamed for some reason or embarrassed or just… numb because she couldn’t believe that one human being could do that to another. Michelle, Mia decided, had seen the truth: that they were never getting out and rather than live out the rest of her days in the presence of such monsters, she took matters into her own hands. She found her own way out. 

Whatever her reasoning, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was gone and Teddy was still here. 

Realizing the room has gone quiet again, Mia raises her head and locks eyes with Gally. He stares at her, his gaze intense, and she feels her stomach drop. He hates her, hates that she’s here. Her very presence makes him angry. There’s no scenario in which he’ll vote to banish Teddy. 

Please, she pleads silently as she stares back at him. 

Please. 

“Gally?” Alby says, signaling that it’s his turn to cast his vote. 

Gally says nothing as he continues to stare at her from across the room.

“I vote,” he says finally, not breaking eye contact with Mia. “I vote that we banish this son of a bitch at sundown.”

Teddy erupts into a cacophony of protestations and shouts as Frypan and Gally grab him by the arms and drag him towards the door. She’s not sure if this is relief or guilt or exhaustion, but Mia is almost positive her chest is going to cave in. Biting the inside of her cheek, she uses all her strength to push her emotions down for a few seconds longer. 

“Wait!” She yells after them, standing. 

Gally and Fry turn around and the relief is evident on Teddy’s face as she walks towards them slowly. 

He thinks she’s going to forgive him. To tell them they should be merciful. 

As Mia approaches them, she can feel Newt following behind her. For a split second, she thinks maybe it would be better if he doesn’t hear what she’s about to say, but decides that maybe it doesn’t matter. He already knows the worst possible thing about her, and somehow he’s still there, right behind her. She smiles at the thought and takes a deep breath. 

“Teddy,” she says, addressing him directly. He’s stopped struggling now, so sure that she’s about to tell his captors to release him and forget anything ever happened. “A piece of advice for when the Grievers find you out there: just try to relax. It won’t be as fun for us, but it’ll be over faster."

“Get this piece of shit out of my sight,” she says to Gally.  
Her ears begin to buzz and the noise around her builds again with shouts and curses as Teddy is finally, mercifully, dragged away. The rest of the boys follow without looking at her, expect for Newt who remains right behind her, not quite touching but close enough so that she can feel the heat of his skin. Finally, she turns around and buries her head in his chest. His long arms surround her and he strokes her hair silently as her sobs fill the empty room. 

“It’s okay, love. I’m here. I’ve got you.” 

Mia’s not sure how long they stand like that, but eventually she feels like she can breathe again. She pulls back and she looks up at Newt, then down at his wet, tear-stained shirt. 

“Shit, I’m a mess.” She says with a short, mirthless laugh. 

“You are not,” he says, smiling down at her. “You are beautiful. Besides, your eyes are the same green as the grass on the Lawn when they get all red like that. I quite fancy it actually. And your red nose,” he places a soft, gentle kiss between her eyebrows. “That makes your freckles stand out. I like that too.”

“So I should cry more often?”

“Didn’t say I liked the crying part. Just the side effects.”

The moment is interrupted by the groaning of metal, followed by pained shouts. The doors of the Maze are getting ready to close for the night, taking Teddy with them. Mia stiffens at the sounds of his pleading, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“Don’t you have to…”

“Nah. Alby’ll understand if I sit this one out. C’mon.” He leads her outside, turning them away from the South Gate where a crowd has gathered to watch as the Keepers force Teddy into the Maze one final time.

They walk hand in hand until they reach a large tree and settle onto the grass with tier backs against the trunk, away from the commotion. 

“Wonder if Alby’ll want to have a bonfire tonight,” Newt wonders aloud, “all things considered.”

“Shit,” Mia moans. “I completely forgot. It’s Greenie Day.” 

“It’s okay, love. No one would fault you for it. There’ve been plenty of distractions to deal with today, even without a Greenie.”

“What did you tell him?” She leans her head against Newt’s shoulder. Her exhaustion is so palpable — it feels like it’s seeped into her bones. Mia wonders if she’ll ever feel rested again. 

“Nothing.” Newt says, lifting his arm and letting it rest along her shoulders. “He’s been in the Pit since the box came up. He’s just a little thing, terrified of his own shadow. Besides, Alby thinks it’s best we don’t mention this to any Greenies from now on.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. Teddy, Ian, you in the Maze. Might give some of these Shanks some ideas. And, better to make them think no one can survive a night in the Maze. It’ll keep things in line. For a while, anyway.”

Mia nods, letting her eyes fall closed. 

“I think you’ll like this new little Greenie. You’ll probably be able to boss him around without much trouble. He’ll be fine once he gets over the initial shock of it all. Winston said the kid was so scared he klunked his pants three times.” He chuckles at the thought. 

“He remember his name yet?” Mia asks sleepily. 

“As a matter of fact, he did.” Newt leans his head against hers, closing his eyes with a relaxed sigh. “He says his name is Chuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Friends. Thank you for your patience. This past week has kicked my ass for so many reasons. As always, I appreciate your support and kind comments. It means the world to me! Shooting to have the new chapter done before the end of the week. xoxo


End file.
